


Psycho Pass:  Drift!

by SoelleKhiss



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Anime, F/M, Fanfiction, Fast and Furious tribute, Fast and Furious-Alternate Verse, Initial D tribute, Psycho-pass - Freeform, Romance, Street Racing, akane - Freeform, kogami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoelleKhiss/pseuds/SoelleKhiss
Summary: After a grueling, two-week law-enforcement boot camp, Kogami and Akane head to the City of Angels with newfound friends, LAPD Officers Royce and Rodriguez. While consulting with their colleagues on a case, they soon find themselves going undercover as street racers in a head-on collision with the fierce, local nightlife and a ruthless car thief, whose method for acquiring one-of-a-kind cars is murder.[This work is complete.]





	1. Chapter 1

A morning breeze rolled in off the Pacific Ocean and brought a momentary reprieve from the heat. Shinya Kogami stared off into the hazy horizon and tried to forget how miserable he was in the sweltering temperatures. Standing in the shade of three large palm trees, he leaned back against the sinewy trunk and closed his eyes in frustration. 

Although he was surrounded by the serenity of soothing sounds—wind moving through palm tree leaves and the gentle current of the ocean—it was all lost to him, drowned out in the throaty roar of revving car engines, screeching tires, and cheering crowds of spectators. The acrid smell of exhaust and spent rubber was as intoxicating as it was annoying to him and served only to irritate the back of his throat.

It was his third day of observation with the Los Angeles Police department, and he found himself downtown on a security detail that was tasked with crowd control at the Los Angeles Public Speed Park. The venue was a recreational race track that catered to the car enthusiasts in the greater county area. For early morning, the weather was unusually hot, getting hotter, and that was just in the shade. Kogami tugged at his already loose tie and his sweat-dampened shirt, which was clinging to his chest.

“How do Royce and Rodriguez operate in this weather? And in full uniform, too?” Akane Tsunemori fanned herself with her hand. It did little good. The air was stifling, and she appeared as if she were wilting away in the oppressive heat. She retreated into what little shade remained as the sun managed to penetrate the canopy of the palm trees above them.

“They’re used it. We’re not,” Kogami replied. “This is the kind of work that cymatic scanners and drones handle back home.”

“It’s no different than a heightened area stress alert, I guess. Only the Inspectors and Enforcers would just now be arriving on the scene.” Wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she sighed and leaned back on another tree beside him. “Back home, there certainly would have been an alert by now. With all this excitement—racing cars, fierce competition, and rivalries—I can’t imagine that someone’s psycho pass wouldn’t have exceeded regulation value.”

“At least _that_ would be interesting. I’m getting bored.” Kogami reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one from the packet, he put it to his lips and lit it.

“Kogami, it’s your fault that we were put on this security detail in the first place!”

“How’s that, Inspector?”

“In less than 24 hours on the job, Rodriguez and you cost the LAPD $1.1 million dollars by blowing up that oil tank.”

“That wasn’t our fault. The perpetrator drove into it.”

“Because you shot out the tires!”

“I didn’t fire one shot.”

“You held the steering wheel while Rodriguez shot out the tires.”

“That perp got what he deserved. He robbed a bank and put the lives of 20 people in jeopardy, including two little kids. Besides, Rodriguez and I made up for it the next day with that black tar heroin bust. Net worth $3 million dollars of drugs off the street. That was a good case.”

“You broke seven of the dealer’s fingers!”

Hands in his pockets, Kogami shrugged his shoulders. “He fell down the stairs.”

“Three times!”

“Twice. There were two flights.” 

“Kogami, that’s not helping matters. If you keep this up, Rodriguez is going to end up being suspended, or worse, and we’re going to be deported. Chief Tomb was very clear about that!” She balled her hands into tiny fists of anger and stomped a foot as she yelled at him above the racing engines. “Are you even listening to me? You can be so selfish at times.”

Had Kogami really heard her, he might have agreed. As it was, the Enforcer heard every other word. Generally that was enough to get the gist of her complaints. His antics so often drew her criticism and then brought her praise after the fact when the perpetrators were brought to heel. Her eyes were especially beautiful in those moments, but for the time being, his attention was elsewhere, focused on a crime of a different sort.

“Give that back, Chase!” Surrounded by a pack of young men, the little girl was no older than 10 years old. She was dressed in jean shorts and a pink T-shirt; a matching pink backpack was strapped at her shoulders. Full of stuffed animals, it bounced and swung from her body as she tried to retrieve one of her treasures, which was in the hand of a much taller, much older boy. 

Despite the heat, the youth was dressed in a black track suit and too many gold chains for Kogami’s aesthetic tastes. He held the stuffed animal over the child’s head and dangled it just out of her reach as his friends laughed and encouraged him. They were standing in the shade of small, blue pavilion. Polished and gleaming, the latest model of a Porsche 911 GT was parked in the shade beneath the tent.

Incensed by the bully’s cowardice, Kogami crushed out the cigarette in the bare palm of his hand and headed in the girl’s direction to even the odds. Before he could render any aid, the boys took off running toward an area of parked vehicles. As high-octane engines roared to life, tires chirped and squealed as three vehicles sent a spray of gravel high into the air. The trio, a Mazda Miata, a Volvo 340, and a Nissan 240X recklessly made their way through an open gate onto a paved section of nearby figure-8 track.

“Hey,” Kogami said to the little girl. “You alright?”

Though the face that turned to him was defiant, there were tears ready to spill forth at any moment. “Chase took one of my stuffed animals. Tigger.”

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll get you another one.”

She bowed her head and stared at her feet. “My daddy got me that Tigger. He said to never lose it. To always keep it close.”

“Is he here? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—“ 

“My daddy is dead, mister.” Her thick brown hair was tied back in two, unruly ponytails. They swayed lethargically in the heat as she met Kogami’s eyes with a quiet, but stubborn resolve. Sighing back her tears, she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” Kogami glanced at Akane, who made an awkward face. Neither of them was certain what to do.

“You’re not from around here,” the child said, “are you?”

Bending over to meet the girl at eye level, Akane smiled. “No. We’re from Japan.”

The child turned to Kogami, bending her neck to look up at him with one eye closed against the glare of the sun. “You’re awfully tall for being from Japan. I heard all the people there were short, like her.” She pointed to Akane. “My daddy would say they put more fertilizer in your bed because you’re bigger. My name’s Phoenix. Phoenix Iazzetti.” She offered her hand to Kogami in friendship.

“Kogami, but my friends call me Ko.” He shook her hand firmly.

“Am I your friend?” Phoenix asked. 

“You are now. This is Akane.”

Phoenix stood awkwardly looking on as Akane bowed politely to her. She did her best to replicate the greeting, but could not refrain from giggling at the gesture. “I didn’t mean nothing by saying you were short. My daddy taught me that the best things in life come in little packages. Just like BabyGirl here.” She tapped her fingers affectionately against the Porsche’s driver’s side door.

The Porsche was a beauty on its own merit, but the custom paint job accentuated a presence of pure confidence and spirit. Metallic gray was the main color that covered the high-end performance vehicle from its hood, across it front quarter panels, the roof, and both doors. From the middle of the doors on back, in the fashion of an unfurled checkered flag blowing in the wind, a myriad of squares from faded to vibrant blue finished the custom job all the way to the rear bumper and tail lights. 

“BabyGirl, huh?” Kogami admired the car for a long moment. “You’re a little young to have your own car, aren’t you?”

Phoenix smiled and clasped her hands over her chest. “She’s a very special car, Ko, a proven street racer.”

A loud commotion drowned out the child’s voice. The first heat on the figure-8 track was getting underway. Constructed in the literal shape of a number eight, the track’s connecting intersection formed a perfect X between two oval loops. The danger of a collision at the intersection was evident to anyone watching, but with only three cars on the track, there was less chance of a wreck and more room for an exhibition of skill and showmanship. 

Kogami recognized the cars and the bullies at their steering wheels. The leader, Chase, sat behind the wheel of the Miata and raced into the track’s intersection before drifting into the first arc. He was promptly followed by the Volvo and the Nissan as the three drifted in tandem. Straightening out in the intersection, the Miata drifted once more into the arc of the second loop. To add a bit of spectacle to the show, the brazen drivers were tossing Phoenix’s stuffed Tigger from one window to another.

“Hey,” the Enforcer said, tapping Phoenix on the shoulder, “mind if I borrow your car?”

“Kogami?” Akane’s voice was both an inquiry as well as a condemnation.

Phoenix was too preoccupied watching her beloved toy being tossed perilously through the air. Her little hand pulled at the handle to open the door. “Can you get it back, Ko? My Tigger?”

“Certainly going to try.” Before Akane could protest, Kogami put his arms around her and his hands behind her neck. “I need to borrow this. You don’t mind, do you? It’s for a good cause.”

“M-my necklace?” Akane stammered. She felt him undo the clasp and remove the gold chain with a heart-shaped winter sapphire as its pendant. It was a cherished gift that the Enforcer had given to her after an especially close call on the job. “Kogami, what are you about to do?”

“I’m going to work on my selfishness.” Adjusting the seat for his long legs, Kogami sat down in the driver’s seat and strapped himself into the five-point restraint harness. He placed the necklace over the rearview mirror and punched the _START ENGINE_ button. The Porsche purred in response to the ignition. 

“What’s that for?” Phoenix asked through the window. She stared at the beautiful sapphire heart as it swung from the mirror. Encrusted with diamond chips, the pendent captured the light and cast pale-blue accents throughout the cabin of the car. 

“Balance,” Kogami replied. He looked at Akane as he said it. Then revving the engine, he slowly drove across the parking lot to the track entry.

Timing his entrance to seamlessly merge with the trio at the rear of the pack, Kogami spun the Porsche’s tire and raced onto the figure-eight track. Speeding around the first loop, he took his foot off the throttle and then lightly tapped it again. The Porsche responded obediently, going into a gentle slide. He followed up by aggressively working the accelerator to power through the last arc of the drift. 

Kogami kept an eye on the cars sharing the track with him and on the sapphire pendant. When the winter sapphire was pulled into a precise angle by centrifugal force, he knew when to act to produce the best performance from the Porsche. Confident in his impromptu ballast, he experimented with the Porsche’s handling. 

BabyGirl proved to be a finely crafted machine, professionally enhanced by precision tuning and aftermarket performance upgrades. With a light tap of the brake and a subsequent demand on the accelerator, the same drift could be produced with near-perfect accuracy and consistency. Satisfied that he had the car well under his control, Kogami set his sights on claiming the racing line and disrupting the other drivers.

Despite his unexpected appearance on the track, the game of toss continued between the bullies unabated. Kogami took advantage of their distraction by speeding through the first loop and attempting to pass on the inside track of the rear car. Spooked by the gladiatorial maneuver, the Volvo driver panicked and hit his brakes. While there was plenty of room for both cars, he lost control of his vehicle and spun out into the gravel on the outside of the track macadam. 

To maintain a hard line on the inside track, Kogami buried one of the Porsche’s front tires in the grass, just off the asphalt, to lock the car onto its trajectory throughout the drift. Once all four tires were back on the asphalt, he tapped the accelerator, and the Porsche obediently slid sideways into the next curve on its own inertial momentum. Traveling side by side with the second car, Kogami glared at the frightened driver of the 240X as they prepared to speed around the crest of the loop. 

With only inches separating the cars from disaster, the maneuver was high risk and spooked the second driver, who abruptly braked. Kogami straightened the Porsche just long enough to speed by him on the inside line. As the scared driver dropped back into third place, Kogami let the Porsche’s rear tires loosen and swung back into a drift beside the leader’s vehicle. Ignorant of what had transpired on the track behind him, the bully gave Phoenix’s toy a toss out of the passenger window.

Straining against the five-point restraint harness, Kogami caught the toy and safely tucked it into the passenger seat. Never letting up on the accelerator, he met Chase’s eyes with a menacing grin. Despite a California tan, the boy’s face went ashen with fear. As the cars straightened for the track’s intersection, Kogami downshifted and sped by him without much effort and claimed first position. To show off his superior skills, he toyed with the emergency brake and sent the Porsche into a powerful drift through the initial arc of the curve. With a cocky grin, he held the slide through the entire loop until the last possible minute before straightening to shoot through the criss-crossed intersection and off the track.

Surrounded by applauding spectators, Kogami was forced to crawl across the parking lot to avoid hitting the crowd of appreciative car enthusiasts. He rolled to a stop in the grassy area in front of the Porsche’s pavilion, where Akane and Phoenix were waiting for him. Even as he tried to get out of the vehicle, spectators crowded in on him and shoved track programs in his face for autographs. Ignoring them, Kogami forced his way to Phoenix and offered her the recaptured toy.

“Ko, that was amazing!” Phoenix gushed. She gladly took the offered toy from his hand and tried to twist around and reinsert it in the top of her backpack.

“Here, let me do that,” Akane said. She turned Phoenix around to face Kogami, so that she could glare at the Enforcer and his reckless antics. “Is that your idea of conflict resolution?” she asked in Japanese.

“Nothing got blown up, and no one fell down the stairs.” Kogami retrieved the necklace from the Porsche’s rearview mirror, but when he attempted to return it to her, Akane took a step back and away from him.

“You are impossible,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

With the most mischievous smile on his face, Kogami nodded. “Most of the time.”

“Ah, Ko,” Phoenix said in a small frightened voice. The child pulled insistently at his jacket sleeve. “I would never say it’s rude to be talking Japanese when I don’t. I would never say that, but they might.” She pointed behind them.

Kogami followed her gaze to the trio of young men, the bullies, who were walking toward them. Their leader was carrying a tire iron in one hand. “Stay with Akane,” he whispered. 

Holding the winter sapphire securely in his left hand, Kogami retrieved his cigarettes and tapped the bottom to separate one from the pack. He put the cigarette to his lips and lit it. Taking a long drag, the Enforcer exhaled into the air above him. It was purely aggressive posturing meant to be a deterrent.

A petulant pup who had not yet learned to pay his respects to a much older, more experienced wolf, Chase failed to recognize the warning and take the opportunity to back down. Arrogance helped him maintain his current, reckless course, and the presence of a small pack behind him lent a false sense of confidence.

Kogami met him with a smirk. _There were wolves who had no need of a pack,_ he thought.

Chase was self-assured and all swagger. He walked with a boastful strut in his stride. Head cocked up, chin jutting out, he slapped the tire iron against the palm of his hand to illustrate an intended threat of violence. Kogami observed no hint of any martial training in his gait, just pomp. The bully had relied too much on numbers instead of prowess to rise to his pretender’s throne.

But that was not Kogami’s present concern. The present concern was in deciding how badly to hurt and embarrass him.

The other two drivers stopped five strides out as Chase proceeded to confront Kogami with no hesitation. “You got some skills behind the wheel, but we’ll see what you’re made of off the track.” Raising the tire iron above his head, he took a swing at Kogami.

“Kogami!” Afraid to see the aftermath, Akane closed one eye and pulled Phoenix close to shield her from the sight.

Without attempting to dodge the blow, Kogami caught the tire iron in his right hand and wrenched it free with a twist that popped the bones in the boy’s wrist. The audible sound made the gathered crowd of spectators wince in collective pain.

Chase yelped as a numbing sensation spread from his fingertips to his shoulder. Kogami put the tire iron back in his flaccid hand and smashed the end of the iron rod into the stunned boy’s face. The telltale sound of crushed bone brought a second, collective gasp from the crowd as nose cartridge gave way to hardened metal. 

Gagging on a gout of blood that went down the back of his throat, Chase dropped the tire iron and cradled his broken nose. In shock and gasping for air, he fell backward into the grass. “What are you waiting for?” he screamed at his companion. “Get him!”

Kogami took a long, unhurried drag on his cigarette before exhaling the smoke above his head. “Anyone else?” he said softly.

Chase’s compatriots retreated, taking a cautious step back and away from the Enforcer. 

“Didn’t think so.” 

“You b-broke my nose!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t break more than that.” Kogami flicked the spent cigarette at him. 

The butt bounced off of Chase’s forehead and landed in the grass. He flinched in terror when the Enforcer stood over him and casually crushed it out beneath his heel. 

Ushered to the scene by concerned onlookers, Officers Royce and Rodriguez hurried to the fallen racer. Dressed in their dark blue uniforms, the officers reminded Kogami of soldiers on patrol. “Your handy work?” Rodriguez asked with envy.

“He was bothering my new friend,” Kogami said, leaning on the Porsche. He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched from a distance.

“I want to press charges,” Chase mumbled. “I’m pressing charges.”

“Pressing charges, huh?” Royce laughed. “You just tried to assault a police officer.”

Chase stopped writhing in the grass. “He’s a cop?”

“Yep.” Royce slapped the street racer in the back of the head. “Best you can hope to get out of this is a couple of tissues and a lollipop.” He pulled a napkin from his pocket, wiped at his forehead until the shine was gone from his black skin, and tossed the damp tissue on the ground at the boy’s feet. “You got the lollipops, Rodriguez?”

“Yeah, I got his lollipop. You better Lilly your ass up out of this park before I cuff the lot of you.” Winking at the Enforcer, Rodriguez grinned at Kogami. “I knew it was a good idea to bring you along on this shit detail. Way to protect and serve, Ko.” With a nod to his partner, he cleared his throat and loudly declared, “Nothing to see here, folks. Move on.”

“You’re a policeman?” Phoenix whispered. Her brown eyes were wide with admiration as she looked up at Kogami.

“Yeah, and I’m in big trouble with my boss.”

Squinting against the sunlight, Phoenix glanced over her shoulder to where Akane was debriefing with their LAPD colleagues. “Akane’s your boss?”

“Yep.”

“And she’s mad because you helped me?”

“She doesn’t like how I do things. I get a little crazy sometimes.” Kogami chuckled. “I have a thing for pretty girls.”

Phoenix smiled and embraced him. “My daddy would have done the same thing.” She took Kogami’s hand and opened his fingers to reveal the winter sapphire in his palm. “This is really beautiful, Ko. Akane’s really beautiful, too.”

“That’s why I gave it to her.”

“She shouldn’t be mad at you for helping me. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he said, taking her by the chin. “Don’t be sorry. She may gets mad at me for my bad behavior, but she understands. Eventually.”

Phoenix took the pendant from his hand and held it tightly to her chest. Walking over to Akane, she held it out. “Please don’t be mad at Ko. He was just trying to help.”

Running her hand along one of Phoenix’s thick ponytails, Akane smiled at her and took the necklace. “He’s just a little difficult sometimes.”

“My daddy always said it’s the difficult ones that give you the most in life. People and cars. That’s why he loved BabyGirl so much. She’s a little difficult sometimes, too. Not everyone can drive her like my daddy did. Except my auntie and now Kogami. So that means BabyGirl likes him. And that makes him special.”

Akane sighed, glancing up at the Enforcer, who was watching them. “That he is.” 

“I’ve got an idea,” Kogami said. “How about some ice cream?”

“Are you buying?” Phoenix asked in a high-pitched squeak.

“It’s my idea, isn’t?”

“Hey! Hey, was that you!” a woman screamed from the direction of the track. She pointed to a massive Jumbotron screen in the nearby parking lot. The theater-sized screen replayed the final moments of the figure-8 heat as Kogami was reaching out to catch Phoenix’s toy in midair.

“Friend of yours?” Kogami asked

“That’s my Auntie Nysa,” Phoenix said. 

“She looks upset.” Akane observed, a worried expression darkening her face.

“She always looks like that, especially now that my daddy’s gone. I got this, Ko.” Phoenix took Kogami’s hand in hers and then took Akane’s hand as well. “Nysa, Chase took one of my stuffed animals again. Miss Akane and Mr. Kogami were trying to help me. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? After a performance like that? Who can be mad?” Wearing gray mechanic’s overalls, she quickly wrapped her thick, wavy hair in a bun at the top of her head and secured it with a screwdriver. “Where’d you learn to drive like that?”

Smiling impishly, Kogami glanced at Akane. “Some would attribute my talent to a chapter in juvenile delinquency.” 

“Kogami, I never said that,” Akane protested.

He pursed his lips and shrugged, feigning hurt feelings from beneath a tousled forelock of black hair. “You didn’t have to: it was evident.”

“Well, I don’t care what it was...you just qualified my car for the next heat and maybe for the modifieds this fall,” Nysa said. She offered her hand in friendship. “Name’s Nysa, Nysa Iazzetti. Looks like you met Squirt already. And you’re clearly well acquainted with BabyGirl.”

“Akane Tsunemori,” Akane said. She bowed, still feeling awkward with the traditions of a new country. “This is Shinya Kogami, my partner.”

“Partner?” Nysa asked. “You two an item?”

Akane flushed crimson. “We work together.”

“They’re together.” Phoenix giggled. She fist bumped Kogami as Akane rolled her eyes at them.

“What do you mean I qualified the car?” Kogami asked. “I didn’t even complete the heat.”

“For the qualifying run, you don’t have to finish. It’s just practice,” Nysa explained. “If the judges like what they see, they call you back. A call back is an automatic qualification.”

“How do you know Kogami was called back?” Akane asked.

“With scores like _that_? How could he _not_ be called back?” Nysa pointed to the Jumbotron.

Staring at the scores, Phoenix stood unblinking for a long moment and then looked at Kogami in shock. “BabyGirl really likes you, Ko.”

Kogami pulled at his pants legs and squatted down beside her. “Want to explain all that to a tourist?”

“You did really good, as good as my daddy, and he was a Patriarch.”

“A Patriarch?”

“A well respected member of the best underground street racing crew in the city,” Nysa said. “The judges are looking for five things in the first heat: style, race line, commitment, drift increase, and crowd reaction. You got 10s in all five scores.” She pressed her fingers against her temples in disbelief. “I don’t suppose you’d be up for doing that again?” When he hesitated, she said, “Look, I came here with a hired driver, only to have him flake out on me.”

“What happened to your driver?” Akane asked.

“I suspect someone paid him to hire on with me and then to quit at the last minute, leaving me in the cold. There’s a lot of sabotage out here on the streets and in the pits.”

“But we don’t live here, Nysa. We’re going home in a few days.”

“I get it. I just need the car qualified. I can always find another driver.” She turned to Kogami. “Another heat like that, and my car is in for the modifieds. I’ll even pay you, win or lose.”

Staring at the ground, Kogami hesitated to give her an answer. He felt a warm hand take his and smiled down as Phoenix leaned against his hip.

“Please, Ko?”

Glancing up at Akane, he waited for her approval. “Inspector?”

Akane shook her head in resignation. Unable to hide the smile curling in the corners of her mouth, she said, “I guess you’re going to be need this again.” She held out her hand with the winter sapphire.

“It’s a chance to make good on all the mayhem I’ve caused.” He held her hand and rubbed his thumb across her fingers as the necklace rolled across their skin.

“It is. And if anyone can do this, it’s you.”

Having dealt with the rambunctious racers and kicked them from the track and common grounds, Royce and Rodriguez returned, meeting Kogami at the Porsche. “Did you see those scores, Kogami? Damn!” Rodriguez said. “Three days on the job, and you’re becoming some fricking prince of the city!” The two men shared a crisp high-five. 

“And destiny calls again.”

“You’re going back in for the last heat?” Royce asked.

“Ah, damn! That’s my son right there!” Rodriguez cheered. He opened the door to let Kogami get back in the Porsche. “Lucky sonovabitch!”

“Lucky for us,” Royce said in a hushed tone. He bent over the car door from the passenger side to whisper to his partner. “Remember that street racer case the chief’s been ragging on us about? I just got an idea.” He looked at Kogami and then back to Rodriguez.

Rodriguez paused, his grin widening with understanding. “Dude, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Probably not,” Kogami complained. “One of you want to enlighten me? And make it fast, I’ve got a heat to win.”

“How’d you like to go undercover, Ko? Take down a real bastard who makes that bank robber and that heroin dealer look like choir boys?” Rodriguez whispered, trying to block their conversation from eavesdroppers.

“We’ve been busting our balls on this case for over six months.”

“Did you really need to ask such a dumb question?” Kogami slammed the door shut and started the car. “I’m in, but you’ll have to convince Akane.” 

“Convince me of what?” she asked.

Putting Akane’s necklace back on the rearview mirror and straightening the pendent so that it hung, unmoving, down over the dash, Kogami winked at the officers. “Good luck with that. We’ve all got our jobs to do.” Signaling his intention to run the next round, Kogami punched the accelerator and spun the tires. The crowd cheered and a few air horns went off as the Porsche returned to the figure-8 track.


	2. Chapter 2

Situated in a sequestered corner of the Los Angeles Police Department headquarters on the 33rd floor, a private conference room shared an adjoining corridor with the offices of LA’s top cop: Chief Makaila Tomb. Chief Tomb sat at the head of an oblong marble table with her head bowed and resting in one hand. Shoulders slumped in resignation, she swung her glasses precariously between her fingers. “Six years. Six years and I can retire with my full pension. But at this rate, I’m going to meet my Lord and Savior in six weeks behind you two.” 

“Which two do you mean, Chief?” Rodriguez asked. “Me and Royce? Or me and Ko?” He cleared his throat with uncertainty and averted his gaze when she looked up to glare at him.

“Not another word, Officer Rodriguez,” Tomb said. “I don’t even want to hear your voice right now. After that stunt with the oil tanker on Monday and the heroin dealer on Tuesday. You’re not just in the dog house, you’re under it. Six feet under it! Are we clear?”

“Five by five, Chief.”

Tomb’s hair was majestically braided in a complex pattern of deep crimson and natural gray interwoven throughout the hairstyle. Kogami was fascinated by the intricacies of it and lost himself in the labyrinth of one interconnecting braid leading to another. Despite her high temper and curtness, there was a genuine quality of humanity that his superior, Chief Kasei, could not rival.

Still dressed in full uniform from the day’s security detail, Royce and Rodriguez sat uncomfortably to Chief Tomb’s left, while Akane and Kogami sat on the right side. The tension in the room was formidable and as cold as the chilled air being pumped through the air conditioning vents. Kogami found himself reminded of an evaluation meeting that might have sent him to an isolation cell for life. Hands folded in his lap, he took a deep breath and sat back in his chair trying to relax.

Rubbing her temples as if she was suffering a migraine, Chief Tomb sighed heavily. “Okay, you have my full attention. Officer Royce, talk to me.”

“It’s the McNeill case, ma’am,” Royce pitched in earnest. “Rodriguez and I believe it’s tied to four other murder cases in the last four months. Five murders, five street racers, all in the red and growing cold as we speak.”

“Five murders that you’ve been trying to tie to tech mogul Travis McNeill, one of the wealthiest men in the valley,” Tomb said. “The only link to him being the last words of a dying street racer, a petty criminal himself. Officer Royce, you can’t expect me to authorize an undercover operation based on so thin a lead. These murders could be as simple as a beef over street cred.”

“Chief, we initially thought this was just a rivalry thing, too,” Rodriguez interjected. “But there’s no street cred to be earned if your rivals are all dead.” 

“What did I tell you?” Tomb said to Rodriguez. 

“Sorry, Chief.” Beneath her fierce glare, the cop bowed his head and fell silent.

“If I’m going to risk my reputation to sign off anything, I need more than this.” She threw her hands in the air in disgust. “I need more than your usual gut feeling. Royce, Rodriguez, you’re rarely wrong. But this is big, boys. Bigger than anything you’ve ever run down before. I need another solid connection.”

“What about the cars?” Kogami said. “In each case, the body of the driver was left behind, and their prized possessions, their cars, went missing.”

“How do you know these street racers didn’t kill the drivers and take the cars themselves?” Tomb countered. “In their world, they could scrub the vins, retitled the paperwork, and put those vehicles back out on the street or sell them for profit without any authority being the wiser.”

“Because that would go against their code, Chief,” Rodriguez said, risking her ferocity. “You could scrub every one of those missing vehicles, but you wouldn’t dare put them back on the street. Not these streets. The racers would know.”

Royce nodded in agreement. “These cars are one-of-a-kind. As unique as the drivers who built and raced them.”

“Still waiting for a connection, gentlemen.” Tomb pressed the palms of her hands against her forehead. “Give me some reason to risk my pension.”

“BabyGirl,” Kogami whispered.

“Excuse me, Enforcer Kogami!”

“Chief, he’s not being disrespectful,” Royce said quickly. “It’s the name of a car. Reese Iazzetti’s Porsche 911. We suspect McNeill tried to have Iazzetti killed, but the attempt failed.”

“Well, Iazzetti eventually did die of his wounds,” Rodriguez added, “but he made certain that McNeill didn’t get the car.”

“Without realizing who they were,” Akane said, “we ran into Iazzetti’s sister and daughter at the car show this morning.”

Waving her glasses back and forth in front of her, Tomb asked, “What’s the significance of this car? I’m still not making the connection.”

“It’s our way in, Chief,” Rodriguez said. “Iazzetti was a Purgatory Patriarch, one of the leaders of the biggest underground street racing crews in Los Angeles. If we can get the car back on the street and racing, we might flush McNeill out when he makes another bid to claim it.”

“And who is supposed to drive it, Rodriguez? You? After that stunt you pulled at the county line? No way! And Royce drives like my grandmother.” 

“Neither of us, Chief,” Rodriguez said. “ _Him_.” He pointed to Kogami. When she rolled her eyes in reply, he added, “It’s the perfect cover. With the red tape between us and Japan, it would be difficult to track Kogami’s real records.”

“And we could make that even more difficult with a bit of official hacking,” Royce said. “Chief, you’ve been riding us hard on this case for months now. This is the break we’ve been looking for.”

Akane absently rubbed at her chin. “It does make perfect sense, Royce. With a bit of work at MWPSB, we can make the digital trail very difficult to track. Shion could put a whole other identity into the system for Kogami.” Then realizing she had spoken out loud, she gasped, “I mean! If you thought it was a good idea, Chief Tomb!”

“Not just a good idea, it’s a good plan,” Royce said. “Kogami’s an unknown in Los Angeles. No records. No priors.”

“Plus he’s got the skills,” Rodriguez said. “As proven at the track earlier today, _and_ on top of it all, he’s a cop.”

“Something of a rogue cop,” Tomb said, looking over a digital file on a tablet. She swept her hand over the contents. “Senior Inspector Nobuchika Ginoza describes you in three words, Enforcer. _Impertinent_. _Insubordinate_. _Incorrigible_.”

Kogami said the words along with her in his head. He cracked his knuckles and sighed as he slouched into his chair. Even 8000 miles away, Ginoza was still a spur in his side. “Guilty. On all counts.”

Tomb leered at him with a fake grin on her face. “Glad to see you can admit it.” 

“But, Chief,” Rodriguez said, “his handler’s right here with him. We send Inspector Tsunemori undercover with Kogami. He can play some exiled Yakuza brat.” 

“Sent here because of his psycho pass,” Royce added.

“And Inspector Tsunemori can go in as his old lady.”

“And if that doesn’t wash, Chief, we’ve got 100% full cooperation from the FBI. They’ve been looking to bring this guy McNeill down a peg for their own reasons.”

“FBI?” Tomb said. “Why didn’t you mention that fact? How’d you two manage that?”

Rodriguez smiled. “Our people know other people. That’s all we can really say right now. Full interagency cooperation, Chief! LAPD, FBI, MWPSB. That’s a lot of acronyms for a headline.”

“Or my headstone.” Sitting back in her chair, Chief Tomb cleared her throat. She crossed her legs beneath the table and tapped on the surface with the rim of her glasses as she considered her decision. Turning to regard Kogami with hard cynicism in her eyes, Tomb said, “Enforcer Kogami...Inspector Tsunemori, welcome to the Los Angeles Police Department’s official duty roster. At least temporarily.”

“Yes!” Rodriguez wailed. Elated with the news, Royce and he exchanged a sharp high five and a fist bump.

Kogami gasped in surprise. It was not the answer he had anticipated, judging from Chief Tomb’s stern expression. “You’re okay with this? Even after that report from Inspector Ginoza?”

“ _Impertinent_. _Insubordinate_. _Incorrigible_. Similar words were used to describe two rookies I hired out of the academy just five days after I made Chief of Police.” Tomb regarded Royce and Rodriguez with a proud, but reproving, smile. “Those rookies are currently the top performing cops in this precinct. Results don’t come without risk.” She got up from her chair and leaned over Akane. “Don’t make me regret this, Inspector Tsunemori.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Akane nervously stood up and bowed to her. “I’m just surprised Inspector Ginoza signed off on this.”

“He didn’t. And gave me laundry list of reasons as to why this was a terrible idea. So I went over his head and spoke to his superior, your Chief Kasei. She at least was reasonable. To win in gambling, you sometimes need a wild card.” Tomb glanced back at Kogami with a wry grin. “I’ll leave it to you to keep the boys in line, Inspector Tsunemori. If one of them steps out of line, shoot them. Just be careful and aim low, we have real guns here.” Chief Tomb paused at the door to the corridor “Well, what are you all waiting for...the second coming? Get out there and do some good. Protect and serve. Street racers or not, murder is against the law. I want it stopped, and I want the people responsible. Feel me?”

“Copy that, Chief!” Royce said.

“Sgt. Royce, bring our Japanese consultants up to speed on the Pit Boss Luda Banks and the rest of the Purgatory Patriarchs. I want their cover stories to be air tight. Good luck.”

The door to the conference room closed behind her as Tomb’s returned to her offices. The four law enforcement officers sat in stunned silence until Rodriguez said, “Somebody pinch me! Did that really just happen?”

“This could be a career case, partner. _The_ career case! We blow the lid on this one, and it’s promotion time,” Royce replied. He looked at Kogami and then Akane. “It’s a little too late to ask, but you guys are down for this, right?”

“Of course they are—“

“We never really did ask them, Rodriguez.” Royce turned away from glaring at his partner, his gaze softening as he looked at their guests. “Akane? Ko?”

“We’re here to observe,” Akane said cheerfully. She awkwardly drummed her fingers on the table. “And to assist.”

“We’re in,” Kogami said, annoyed by her indecision. “What‘s the next step?” 

“Rodriguez, call Ziggy. Have him do a data dump under my access code. We’ve got a lot of material to cover.”

“Copy that.” Rodriguez grabbed his cell phone and went to the back of the conference room.

“Who’s Ziggy?” Akane asked.

“Kind of like your Shion,” Royce replied. “A system analyst.”

“Two-bit cyber hustler who pled his case down to a misdemeanor. He was sentenced to life in servitude to the LAPD.” 

“I can hear you, Rodriguez,” said a voice from the cell phone speaker. “How would you like me to max out your credit cards. Oh wait, you have to _have_ credit to have credit cards, right?”

“Take it easy, Zig, you know I’m teasing.” Rodriguez terminated the connection and leaned against the wall. “He’s collating the data now. Files are pretty extensive. Five minutes.”

“What’s the plan?” Kogami asked. 

“I want you two on the street tonight,” Royce said with conviction. “After the car show this morning, people will be talking. Can’t miss this opportunity. It’s the perfect insertion point.”

“That does leave us a lot of time to learn about the people and the culture,” Akane said.

“This particular crew is well-organized and well-funded. We’ve been trying to get an undercover officer inside for years, but haven’t been successful. There is a lot of material to cover, but you two are quick studies.”

Rodriguez’s cell phone alerted with an incoming text. “Royce, Ziggy came through for us. The data for the file has been downloaded.”

Royce activated a holo projector in the center console of the conference table. Glancing at Kogami and Akane, he smiled at them. The sorrowful expression on his face was in conflict with the friendly gesture. “Last chance, you two. If you bail now, it would be understandable. Five racers are dead. Chances are, if you play the part well—”

“And you will,” Rodriguez said.

“The bad guys might come for you.”

Kogami shrugged. “That’s the plan, isn’t it?” 

Royce called up the digital files, which expanded and unpacked themselves on a holo background that simulated a white and black patterned checkerboard. “Damn, Ziggy. What kind of lame ass shit it this? This is an investigation, not battle chess.” He shook his head in disgust. “Pardon our resident hacker. He gets carried away sometimes.”

The conference door opened and a female, uniformed officer poked her head in to the room. “Did you guys request an order from Ziggy?”

“That’s us,” Rodriguez answered. He took the package from her and opened it, removing the two cell phones from inside. “No wristcoms,” he said. “They’re a dead give away that you’re not from around here.”

“Being Japanese looks normal?” Kogami asked.

“In California, yeah,” Rodriguez, said. “Just speak slow and with an accent. And bow a lot. You’ll be perfect.”

“Rodriguez, shut up!” Royce said. “All right, crash course—no pun intended—on the street racing subculture in Los Angeles.” 

Royce manipulated the holo images to bring up the images of five individuals, four men and woman. They looked young, all in their early twenties. Red lettering: _DECEASED_ was stamped at the bottom of each picture. With further manipulation, the photos split into two, featuring the victims and their vehicles.

Kogami sat up with interest. While he did not recognize the man in the final picture, he did recognize the thick, unruly brown hair and the intent eyes. “I’m guessing that’s Reese Iazzetti? Phoenix’s father?”

“The one and only,” Rodriguez said. As an extensive rap sheet of traffic violations and other legal offenses scrolled beneath each victim, he pointed to the profiles. “All five of the vics were street racers, as you already know, but only Reese was a Patriarch.”

“Phoenix mentioned something about that,” Akane said. “What or who are the Patriarchs?”

“A gang, most street cops would tell you, but they’re more organized than that. They’re split into two main categories: Denizens, who comprise the majority of the membership, and the Patriarchs. The latter are the vanguard leadership of the most organized underground street racing crew in the city. But this man,” Rodriguez said, “he is known as the Lord Patriarch.” Manipulating the holographic mage, he enlarged the photo of a black man with closely cropped hair and a thin beard.

“This,” Royce said, “is Luda Banks, and the name says it all because this guy makes bank. They call him the Pit Boss.”

“Is a Pit Boss responsible for what happens in a casino?” Akane asked, reluctantly taking off her wristcom. She handed it to Rodriguez, who gave her a cell phone in trade.

“This guy _is_ the casino. He’s a street racer, turned organizer, turned entrepreneur. He’s made a mint off of a few start-up flash apps. Everything from tune-up applications for cars to aftermarket performance programs. Even created an AI program that will actually let your car talk to you, and not just to tell you it needs an oil change.”

“Besides organizing the races, he also supplies a considerable bankroll to fund the betting that goes along with it, thus the tag. And while, he’s done well for himself, he has not done as well as this guy,” Rodriguez said. He activated another holographic image on the other side of the chessboard. “This handsome devil is Travis McNeill, tech magnate, millionaire playboy, philanthropist.”

“That’s his day job.”

“By night, he’s a suspected arms dealers, black market supplier, and all around bad guy. For years, the CIA was doing business with him on the down-low, but the relationship soured, and both sides deny ever working with the other.”

Royce rotated the holo to bring the business mogul’s picture to the foreground. “A string of mutilated corpses on both sides of the line would tell a different story. The FBI has been trying to build a case on the backs of a string of victims from here to Russia, but anyone who gets caught snooping into McNeill’s business, domestic or international, finds themselves slapped with legal action from his stable of high-priced lawyers or visited by men in dark glasses and dark suits.”

“That’s awful,” Akane whispered.

“What’s this McNeill worth?” Kogami asked.

“On paper? He’s worth about $300-400 million, but off paper?” Rodriguez whistled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Double that when you consider his black market contacts and dark web influence.”

“But why is he getting in the business of stealing cars?” Akane questioned. She scrolled through the inventory of missing cars. “McNeill has plenty of money. He could easily buy any of these cars or even all of them.”

“The local street racers pride themselves on their rides,” Royce said. “While it’s not unusual to sell a vehicle, it’s usually sold in house and within the family. If it happens at all.”

“And it’s rare. Most of the time these street cars are retired and never raced again”

Kogami lit a cigarette and after taking a brief drag, his hand hovered over the ashtray. “So the objective is to infiltrate these Patriarchs and make some noise. Enough to attract this Travis McNeill. And then?” When the officers did not answer in a timely fashion, he added, “Call me selfish, but I’d prefer to go home in business class, not in a box.”

“To be honest, Ko,” Royce replied with a frown, “we never thought about getting this far. It will also depend on how McNeill comes at you.”

“If he takes an interest, you’ll know,” Rodriguez added.

“When Kogami refuses, it will force McNeill to make a move.” Akane folded her hands in her lap. “We already know where that leads. What happens then? We may not even see it coming.”

“This is what an Enforcer is meant to do,” Kogami said. “To hunt and, if necessary, be hunted. Maybe you should sit this one out, Inspector.”

Akane glared at him. “And let you cause anymore damage to the city? I don’t think so, Mr. Kogami.” With a determined spirit, she turned to their Los Angeles colleagues. “The MWPSB evidently has a stake in this now that Chief Kasei has given her approval. We won’t let you down.”

“Street scene comes out well after nightfall,” Royce said, checking his watch. “You’ve got a few hours to dig into this file and get acquainted with the nightlife. What am I missing, Rodriguez?

“Before the cameras roll, the actors have to be dressed for their parts. These two don’t look much like street racers, Royce.” Rodriguez walked around the table and slapped Kogami hard on the back. “Costume call, partner. This is Los Angeles after all. _Hollywood_!” He fluttered his eyebrows. “I’ve got the perfect outfit for you in my locker.”

Akane stood up and looked at Rodriguez. “I’m fairly certain that you don’t have anything for me in your locker. If you did, I might be a bit worried.”

“Fear not, Inspector,” Royce said. He offered his arm to her in a gentlemanly fashion. “I just happen to know some lovely lady cops down in vice who will fix you right up.” As she took his arm with a chuckle, Royce turned to Rodriguez and Kogami. “See you down in the motor pool.”

# # #

Though Rodriguez and Kogami were about the same, general size, the LAPD cop was less defined and more bulk, spread over a powerfully built frame. While he was muscular, Rodriguez was certainly 30 pounds heavier. The clothes that he gave Kogami to wear fit loosely, but with the proper effect. He appeared casual with a fashionable flare.

Leaving his business suit in the locker, Kogami regarded himself in the mirror as Rodriguez watched on proudly. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with faded black, straight-cut jeans and leather motorcycle boots that sported a double buckle on the outside of the ankles. To complete the ensemble, Rodriguez gave him a black leather jacket and a matching black fedora with a red feather in the band.

“Ah man, those little gals on the strip are gonna take one look at you and leave puddles all over the sidewalk,” Rodriguez with laugh. “Oh, one more thing. I almost forgot.” Rodriguez took a polished 9mm Beretta from the top shelf. Clambering a round, he ensured the safety lock was engaged and handed it to Kogami. “You can use this, right?”

“Are you asking if I have permission or if I have the skill?”

“I already know you have the skill,” Rodriguez said. “No directional voice here, Ko. You’re an undercover cop behind enemy lines. A lot can happen in three seconds, not just a quarter mile.” He winked at Kogami and slapped his shoulder. “Besides, a man’s got to protect what’s his, right? Come on, let’s get down to the motor pool. I have a surprise for you.”

Smiling like the Cheshire Cat from _Alice in Wonderland_ , Rodriguez led Kogami through the back corridors of the precinct headquarters to the large motor pool in the rear of the building. Unlike the MWPSB parking hub, the garage was in a spacious, above ground area that opened onto to a test-driving track and obstacle course. Department mechanics labored on repairs and enhancements under fluorescent lights in glass cubicles that looked more like glasshouses than maintenance bays. 

When they turned the corner into a secluded, private bay, Kogami halted in shock at the sight of the vehicle parked and awaiting him there. Polished to a high-sheen the blue and gray exterior of the Porsche 911 gleamed with an inner illumination. The doors, with their checkered patterns that shrunk and faded as they swept into the rear of the vehicle, gave it a sleek, fast look as if the car was in motion, even as it sat idle on the bay floor.

“Recognize your partner?” Rodriguez asked.

“This is BabyGirl,” Kogami said, “from the car show this morning.”

“I don’t mean the car, old boy,” the cop said. He wrapped his arm about the Enforcer’s shoulders and turned him in the right direction. “I mean _your_ partner.” He pointed to the figure at the rear of the Porsche.

Other than a few fashionable outfits worn in holo when Akane went out with her friends, Kogami had grown used to seeing the Inspector dressed in the standard fare of a female MWPSB Inspector: a black suit coat with matching skirt and white oxford shirt. He was totally unprepared to see her dressed in a micro-mini kilt of brilliant scarlet and black striping. A white crop top revealed most of her slender shoulders, the graceful curvature of her neck, chest, and her tight, flat stomach. There was little left to the imagination as her curves were exposed and on display. 

Akane slowly turned her head in his direction. She leaned against the Porsche’s quarter panel and posed, as if competing with the car for his attention. A lollipop was sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Seductively, she rolled the cherry candy along the edge of her lips, enticing him with her eyes.

Kogami stopped breathing. “Down, boy,” Rodriguez whispered in his ear. 

“I tried calling the fire department,” Royce said with chuckle, “but they said there ain’t enough trucks in the city to douse those flames.” The cop held his hand out to formally present Akane in her undercover guise. “Girls at vice did a nice job.”

“I’ll say.” Rodriguez whistled appreciatively and shook his head. “So that’s what’s been hiding under that suit all this time? Where can I place my order? Please and thank you!”

Pushing herself away from the car, Akane cocked her head to one side with a grin. She was wearing more make up than Kogami had ever seen, but it was tastefully done. He was unable to look away from her, seeing Akane in a different light as if for the very first time. With a hypnotic swing in her slender hips, she walked up to him and put her arms around his neck. “Well,” she said with a pout, “say something.”

Though Akane hid it well, there was a slight instability in the walk. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, he asked, “What happened to you? Why are you limping?”

“Kogami, do you have to ruin it?” Akane shoved him away and yanked the lollipop out of her mouth. “The ladies in vice were showing me the ropes. How to walk and talk and move. But instead of these,” she said, glancing down a pair of cherry-red Converse sneakers, “I was wearing stilettos.” Chewing nervously at her lip, Akane frowned. “That was just a very bad idea.”

“Walking in six-inch stilettos is not a task for the faint of heart,”a familiar voice said. Rubbing a chamois cloth in a circular motion against the exterior of the Porsche, Nysa Iazzetti joined them. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ko, or should I say Enforcer Kogami?”

“Nysa?”

Akane chuckled. “Special Agent Nysa Iazzetti.”

“FBI? You’re the LAPD’s connection?” Kogami asked in shock. He turned to Rodriguez and Royce for answers. “You knew?”

“Not until we started making inquiries about the car. And then someone high up the food chain started making inquiries into you,” Rodriguez said.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Nysa said. “Tall, dark, and Japanese. Charms my little niece and does so riding to her rescue in my brother’s most prized possession: BabyGirl.” She rubbed away a smear on the car’s hood. “With all that looking me in the face? Yeah, I went asking questions. I had to—this is my brother’s case.” Nysa twirled the chamois cloth and lashed out at Kogami’s thigh. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the LAPD also suspected Travis McNeill might be involved. I’ve been trying to convince my supervisor of that fact for the last three months.”

“Aren’t you afraid you’re a little too close to this?” Kogami challenged.

“My brother and I didn’t always see eye to eye,” Nysa replied. “On a lot of things. We were on opposite sides of the law, but he was doing me a favor when he was killed. That bastard McNeill had something to do with it, which is why I am relieved that you and Akane agreed to go undercover.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah, Ko, I’m too close. That’s why I’m willing to give Babygirl to you without any questions or strings attached. If you went that far to save a little girl’s toy, how far will you go to bring her father’s murderer to justice?” She rubbed her hands in the chamois cloth. “The title and insurance for this car have been transferred into your name. The bill of sale is dated and notarized to reflect a transfer of funds as of this morning, an hour after the car show.”

“If McNeill is checking, it will look like you bought the car after winning the final heat in the drift competition,” Royce said.

“I also managed to get a copy of the car show video showing Kogami driving in both heats.” Nysa held up her phone to show them the footage. “Congratulations, Ko. You’ve got nearly 300,000 hits in only a few hours.”

“So we’ve got the costumes, the car, and the cover,” Kogami said. “How do we get noticed.”

“You race.” Nysa held out the key fob. “I’d say good luck, but you won’t need it. Babygirl is known on the underground circuit as a proven 3-second car. Now, with a few modifications, some performance tweaks, and a set of new tires. “She’s a 2.5 second car. Maybe 2 seconds with you.”

Rodriguez laughed. “That’s what all the girls say.” He stepped back as Kogami shot him a threatening glare. 

“Any chance the police could interfere?” the Enforcer asked.

“Count on it,” Rodriguez replied. “It’s already in the script.”

“An arrest will definitely sell your cover story to McNeill,” Royce added, “and anybody else on the outside. So make it look good.”

Kogami pointed a finger at Rodriguez with an impish grin. “Make sure it’s you who tries to cuff me.”

“Tries? I’ll do better than that, Ko. Just make sure you’re up for it.” Rodriguez flexed his bicep.

Kogami laughed softly. His hands were trembling with excitement as adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream. Walking to the passenger side of the Porsche, he opened the door and glanced at Akane. “Inspector?”

Akane grinned and settled down inside the car as he closed the door.

“Officers,” Kogami said returning to the driver’s side. “Special agent. I’ll be seeing you.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was early evening in downtown Los Angeles. The storefronts along the streets were dark as the various vendors closed up shop for the night. While the sidewalks were not totally devoid of night life, it was the streets that were teeming with activity as cars worked their way around a five-mile route of connecting streets known simply as the Circuit.

“This must be that section of the strip that Rodriguez mentioned in his report,” Akane said, anxiously looking out the passenger window. “So this is what young people do for fun in the evening? I would think they’d get bored after a while just going in circles.”

“At least it’s real,” Kogami said. “I’d rather be going in circles in the real world than in a virtual one.”

“I don’t think Kagari would agree with you.” Akane jabbed him in the ribs for his curt reply to her comment. “Kogami, that lavender Supra has driven by us three times now.”

“Did you notice the driver?” Kogami sat back in the Porsche’s specialized racing seat and tried his best to look bored, but his heart was pumping frantically. Being undercover was a rush, but the chance to actual street race the Porsche left him euphoric.

“Notice her because she’s a pretty girl?” Akane glared at him.

“Is she pretty?” He rested his chin on his fist and stuck his elbow out the window. “I hadn’t notice. I have all the pretty I need, right here.” He glanced at her with a roguish grin and rubbed her thigh. “That’s Tsuki. She’s one of the Purgatory Patriarchs in the LAPD file.”

A black RX-7 pulled up beside him on the street. Even though there was plenty of room to move ahead, the car matched BabyGirl’s speed down the strip. The driver, a young Korean man, didn’t seem bothered by stopping traffic behind him to stay even with the Porsche. Kogami focused on the straight ahead him, but cut his eyes to glare at the driver. When the driver grinned at him and chirped the tires in challenge, Kogami yawned in reply and continued to drive the speed limit. The RX-7’s tires squealed loudly, and the car lunged forward and cut into the lane ahead of them.

“They’ve certainly noticed you.”

“More like they’ve noticed the car,” Kogami replied. “We’re the strangers here.”

Akane clasped her hands in her lap and sat back in the seat with a despondent expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just worried about if I can pull this off.”

“It’s a little late to be thinking that, don’t you think?”

“The ladies in the Vice Department were very helpful and knowledgeable. They’ve been going undercover for years to capture criminals. This is my first time, Kogami, and the stakes are so high.”

“You’ve got to stop behaving like a deer in the headlights. If you look scared, you probably are scared,” he said. “Act like you own whatever ground it is you’re walking on. Be willing to fight over it. No matter what it takes.”

“You mean think like an Enforcer?”

Kogami laughed. “Something like that.”

“You never really answered Special Agent Iazzetti’s question,” Akane said. “How did you learn to drive like this?”

“Thought you attributed my skill to juvenile delinquency?”

“I’ve seen your file, Mr. Kogami,” she replied, taking a stern tone with him. “I’ve also seen your grades.”

“There’s a correlation between being a delinquent and high grades?” Kogami teased. “You should check out Gino’s file then.”

“Kogami, just answer the question.”

“Physics class.”

“What?”

“My last year in high school, I had a physics teacher who was more unorthodox than academic. The man was brilliant. He believed in hands-on experience to learn challenging concepts.”

“You were his best student, I bet.”

“One of them.”

“Just before graduation, I learned that he had taken a position at the university. With his help and my parents’ blessing, I switched schools. It was a step down, but I knew Mr. Bessho would put the school on the map in a few years.”

“Did he?”

“Their physics program was one of the top academic tiers in the country by the time I graduated. I took every course he offered, and when I exhausted those possibilities, I became his teaching assistant.” 

“You? A teaching assistant?”

“I wasn’t always Enforcer material, Akane.”

Fearing that she had hurt his feelings, Akane gasped in horror. “I didn’t mean—“

“To hear Kagari tell the tale, I heard you liked bad boys,” Kogami said to tease her. “And here I thought you liked me for my good looks?”

“You really are incorrigible.”

“Quarter-mile challenges off the strip tonight!” said a young man at Akane’s door. “You in or you out?” He was dressed in a loose white tank top and jeans that were too large for his narrow frame. Fine blond locks were tossed about in a night breeze, but the huckster kept them under control beneath a Raider’s baseball cap. “It’s $50 to buy in. It’s $25 return for a win.”

“I’m in,” Kogami replied. He handed the boy a $100 bill, but refused the change. 

“Why the tip?”

“I want to race Supra. I’m sure you know the one. It’s lavender.”

The kid looked at him skeptically. “A Patriarch? You got the car, man, but you’ve got to prove you’ve got the skill. Stay in your pay grade.” He tossed a $50 into Akane’s lap. “Take the second right off the strip and wait for further instructions from the pit crew.”

Kogami carefully made his way to the second turn as instructed. Heart thumping against his breastbone, he was guided through a clandestine network of smaller alleys and narrow side streets for six blocks until the streets and alleys began to widen again. 

Doubled parked cars, vans, and trucks lined the street in a backstretch formation that opened into a small gathering area. A hundred or more spectators were crowded between the buildings on both sides of the narrow street to take advantage of food trucks and a variety of vendors. There was even a DJ table and makeshift dance floor.

“Looks like this is your stop,” Kogami said. “Remember what I said about owning the ground you walk on.” He watched the cars in front of him as all the occupants except the drivers exited the vehicles. They all faded in with the assembly of spectators moving among the entertainment venues awaiting them. “Will you be alright?”

“What choice do I have?” Akane said. With a deep breath, the expression of worry faded away. Her eyes narrowed and grew hard and her neck abruptly stiffened with attitude. “I’m not certain I could pull off an Enforcer, but I can act like Ginoza.” She pretended to push a pair of glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“It’s alright, _mami_ ,” a young man in denim overalls said. “He either comes back correct, or he comes back with a wreck. Step off the line.” Staring at Akane’s butt, the huckster watched her go for a moment and then tapped the hood of the Porsche. “Move into position please.”

Kogami marveled at the efficiency of the road crew as they employed their cell phones as walkie-talkies to gather information and set up the racing occupants into lines. BabyGirl was placed beside a black BMW M5. The young driver looked over to Kogami with a smirk and then gave him a dismissive glance. There was no time to reciprocate the sentiment. They were promptly brought to the line by the young man in denim and directed to follow the directions of a scantily clad girl in a red cheerleading outfit. 

Kogami took a deep breath and kept his eyes soft when her arms dropped after a count of three. He popped the clutch, and BabyGirl roared off the line. Deviating from their lane, the BMW bucked slightly when the driver struggled to maintain control at the start of the heat. The cheerleader cried out in fear of being hit and quickly retreated. There wasn’t much room to maneuver, so Kogami slightly altered his course to avoid bumping into her. Though the Porsche got a slow start off the line, BabyGirl easily outpaced the M5. Three seconds later, he was crossing the finished line by a full car length.

Directed off the line by the road crew, Kogami turned the agile Porsche into the narrow alley as spectators cheered the victory. Across from him, sitting in a row of vehicles, he saw the lavender Supra and its driver, the Patriarch Tsuki, watching the activities from a front-row point of view. 

“Nice!” The huckster handed him $25, the return on his entry fee. “Win like that, you qualify for special heats.”

Kogami glared through the windshield at Tsuki. “Stop wasting my time, and bring out the real competition.”

“I got you.” The youth turned his head in the direction of the Supra.

Tsuki was no longer sitting on the car, but was getting behind the wheel. Leering at him with a grin, she started the engine.

“Dude, you’re about to get smoked so hard. It’s $100 for a Patriarch. They don’t race for pennies.” As Kogami turned over the cash, the youth gestured with his hand to warn the other crew members. “Sit tight. High stakes heats get run from this end.”

“Why’s that?”

“So that when you lose, the road crew can show your ass to the door.” The kid sadly shook his head at Kogami. “Nice knowing you. It’s clear. Move back to the line.”

Kogami waited as the lavender Supra pulled up beside him in the alley. The spectators cheered and screamed vehemently, but the support was all hers, not his. Sensing Tsuki’s eyes on him, he resisted the urge to meet her condescending gaze. Her intent was to intimidate and belittle him, but he felt neither. With a straight face he eventually looked at her with a sideways glance and a smirk that made it clear, she was no threat. She laughed and gave him a nod.

A buxom road crew cheerleader, this one dressed in white, approached the line and stood between the two cars. With a glance at Kogami and then a glance at Tsuki, she raised her arms and dropped them to signal the start of the race. There was no wasted motion in this heat. Tires spun only briefly until they bit the asphalt and launched the cars onto the quarter mile contest.

The adept Patriarch was quick off the line. Kogami had expected the high-performance Supra to be fast, but its initial speed surprised even him at the start of the heat. Cheering for their home team heroine, the spectators had already determined the results in the first second when the Supra took the lead. 

Untroubled, Kogami set his jaw with determination. A sheep was best caught from behind not from the front, as the wolf ran it down. The Porsche was barely taxed with all dials in the green as Kogami demonstrated restraint at the controls. But there was no time to admire the Patriarch’s skills, nor the performance of her car, not if he expected to make his mark. He pressed down on the sensitive accelerator.

BabyGirl responded instantly without lurching or lunging forward. The Porsche’s precision engine answered the call, and they swiftly gained ground, taking a slight lead. Astonished by the turn of events, the crowd went silent. Their vivacity was reignited when the Supra showed that it had more to offer as well. Tsuki once more took the lead, but only by a small margin.

Kogami grinned and pressed the accelerator to the floor. As the final second came up, the Porsche pulled ahead, leaving the Supra’s nose at its rear quarter panel. The end of the heat was met with a few seconds of silence as the verdict brought stunned shock. Tsuki, the crowd favorite, came in last. 

The activity on the dance floor stopped. Astonished onlookers watched the replay on a holo projected on the wall above the DJ table. Kogami braked hard. Fully under his control, BabyGirl came skidding to a halt with no fishtailing. Nodding in rapt admiration, the original huckster from the race crew handed him the prize money through the window with a measure of respect.

Tsuki, a cool scowl on her face, pulled up beside him. “Let’s talk.” She drove into the small lot and positioned the Supra in a row of cars on display. Leaving some distance between the Porsche and Supra, Kogami got out of the car and sat down on the front quarterpanel. He saw Tsuki giving him a nod to approach, but took his time, making it clear that he was not on her schedule or subject to her will. 

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his cigarettes and lit one, exhaling smoke as Akane rejoined him. There was a stiff, exasperated reaction from the annoyed Patriarch when Kogami spread his legs in a wide stance and welcomed Akane into his arms with a firm slap on her ass. 

Akane yelped in surprise at the blow, but then laughed to recover her composure. Grabbing the lapel of Kogami’s leather jacket, she pulled herself closer to him. “You’ve certainly managed to stir the hornets’ nest.”

“Have I?” 

“I’ve been chatting with Reese Iazzetti’s old girlfriend.”

Kogami’s eyes narrowed with a smile of pride. “Now who’s enjoying their undercover work?” He glanced at a group of admirers and gave them a stern enough glare to keep their distance from his girl and his car. “Reese had a girlfriend?”

“Several,” she replied. “Evidently, he really got around after the death of Phoenix’s mother. She died of a drug overdose, Kogami, just a year after Phoenix was born.”

Kogami took her hand and gave the knuckles a quick kiss and a reassuring squeeze. “No time to talk about it. I’m being summoned.” Still holding her hand, he pulled Akane close to him, thus making it clear to all that she was with him. Though there was a lot of activity in the area, and the races had resumed, they were being closely watched, especially as they made their way to the area that was clearly reserved for the Patriarchs. 

An impressive trio of cars and their drivers were parked in a cordoned off area. From the profile, Kogami knew that the Korean man on the far left was the Patriarch known as Sung. He rode the hood of a sleek, black RX-7 with red rims. The car’s undercarriage and frame had been heavily modified for air intake to keep it on the road and stable at high speeds. 

“No hard feelings about cutting you off back there on the boulevard,” Sung said in a soft-spoken voice. 

“None,” Kogami replied. “I thought that was the way all Americans said hello.” His clever retort brought friendly laughter from the people standing nearby them.

Described in the files as the all-American bad boy, the Patriarch Brian, leaned up against his blue, barely street legal Nissan Skyline GT-R. While he said nothing, his piercing blue eyes saw everything. Kogami exchanged a respectful nod with him.

Patriarch Tsuki completed the high-octane trinity. She was dressed in pink leather pants and a matching bodice that hid nothing from the imagination. Leaning over her lavender Supra, she regarded Akane for only a moment, and then turned her full attention to Kogami.

“Nice ride,” Sung said.

“Nice run,” Brian added.

“I want my money back.” Tsuki narrowed her eyes in challenge.

Kogami handed the money to Akane, who promptly shoved the small wad into her bra with a smirk. “If you want it, earn it.” He took Akane by the hand and pulled her back toward their car.

“Wait!” Tsuki eyed them both defiantly. “You’ve got the car. Maybe the talent. But this ain’t exactly the Super Bowl. The quarter mile is for amateurs. You up for a real test?”

Kogami plucked the cigarette from his lips and glared at her. Never in a rush, he took a long drag and savored the taste as he stared at the stars overhead. “Are you?” He took another drag and exhaled in her direction. “ _Oreno pasupōtowo miru hitsuyouaruka?_ ”

“No,” Tsuki curtly replied in English, “I don’t need to see your passport. Your pink slip speaks for itself, if you’re willing to risk it.”

The Patriarchs behind her groaned at the challenge. They both quickly got back into their cars, started the engines, and pulled out of the area. In the lead, Sung signaled to the road crew to clear the lane for their departure.

Glancing over her shoulder, Tsuki hesitated before getting into the Supra. “Come with us. If you can keep up, you can stay for the real party.”

“And if I can’t.”

“Pull over and hand that pink slip to someone who can. Deep pockets might have bought you the fancy horse, pretty boy. Doesn’t mean you can ride it.”

Kogami threw his cigarette to the ground and crushed it out, his eyes fiercely set on the thorny street racer. Taking Akane by the arm, he whispered, “Get in the car.”


	4. Chapter 4

The prospect of undercover was exciting enough, but to be permitted and encouraged to fall so far into character was an exhilaration that Kogami had not anticipated. There were no cymatic scans to cause him the slightest hesitation and no Dominators to curb his rabid enthusiasm. The deeper he immersed himself into his role the better he looked, and the better he played the part. But he worried that he might have gone too far. On more than one occasion, he caught Akane watching him with trepidation.

_Can’t be helped_ , he thought. _She’s along for the ride now. We both are._

The Patriarchs led Kogami on a challenging cat-and-mouse chase through the heart of Los Angeles. Unlike the quarter mile, these were not protected back alley stretches of the city or sequestered side streets just off the strip. This contest was high stakes: complete with power slides through red lights, sudden turns on the fly, and rapid acceleration weaving through oncoming traffic and against the flow. he had a feeling that this was a test, the pre-game trial run before the actual competition.

“They must be communicating with each other!” Akane said. With one eye closed and the other watching through her fingers, she held onto the five-way restraint with the other hand as Kogami aggressively maneuvered the Porsche through a turn to keep pace with the Patriarchs.

“They’ve been a team for over three years according to the file,” he replied. “They know each other’s moves.”

“Which gives them an unfair advantage.”

Kogami grinned. “You’re right. Only one thing to do.”

“Kogami?” she whispered in warning.

“You want me to slow this down, so let me do that.” 

Kogami downshifted, which sent the Porsche lunging forward in response to the increased power output. Since leaving the off strip quarter-mile heats, he had kept his eyes on Tsuki’s rear bumper, but now he set his sights on the RX-7. He cut sharply into the opposing lane to cut ahead of her for a new pole position. 

Not expecting him to usurp her place, the Patriarch did her best to close the gap and prevent Kogami from eclipsing her. But when the lead car, the Skyline, made a sudden left turn across traffic, he downshifted again to transfer the Porsche’s weight from the back tires to the front. Despite Tsuki’s attempts to block him, he drifted passed her to claim the third place in their line up. 

“What do you think of that?” Kogami asked, a big smile on his face. He glanced at Akane only to find her cowering in the seat with both hands over her eyes. “Akane?”

“I can’t. I c-can’t watch.” She brought her knees up to her chest and buried her face in them.

“You trust me, don’t you? It’s just like a roller coaster ride.”

“Thanks to you, I’ll never ride in a roller coaster again.” One eye glared at him from beneath her fingers. “Is this what you call slow?”

Kogami laughed at her remarks. “One down, two to go. Then you can open your eyes, okay?”

Gripping the five-point restraint as if her life depended on it, she waved him on with her hand.

For a mile-long stretch, there was a break in the traffic. Kogami used the opportunity to stretch the Porsche’s legs in a hard sprint with the RX-7. Patriarch Sung entertained the notion and allowed him to pull even. With a tire chirp, the sprint was on, and the two cars raced for dominant position. Though BabyGirl had more to give than her current rival, Kogami matched the RX-7 quarter panel for quarter angel until the space ran out with the Porsche in the lead. Having underestimated the Porsche, Sung was just not fast enough and settled for third.

Before Kogami could make a move on the more agile Skyline, the Nissan took a sudden right turn into a parking garage. It was a last-minute, narrow turn that Kogami nearly missed; however, the Porsche proved reliable and made the acute angle through a precarious series of slides. 

Avoiding a line of concrete barriers by mere inches, the car’s tires fought to adjust themselves from the surety of asphalt to the slick surface inside the structure. The rear wheels spun furiously and sent the Porsche into a slide. To counter, Kogami looked to the winter sapphire hanging from the rearview mirror. As the centrifugal force pulled on the pendant, he adjusted for the speed and angle, allowing the Porsche to drift in tandem with the Skyline. Only inches from each other, door to door, the two high-precision cars danced in a directional right loop around the parking garage’s ceiling supports. 

The Skyline straightened only for a moment and, with tires squealing, began to drift to the left. It was a dangerous way to feel out a newcomer, but Kogami was certain the Patriarch, Brian, had seen the footage from the car show. So he downshifted and spun the wheel in a controlled glide, which caused the Porsche to sway from right to left in measured synchronicity.

Eyes open, Akane sighed in awe at the graceful ballet on four wheels. “What are they doing now?” 

“I think we passed the test. At least the first part.” Kogami kept his hand on the gear shift and his eyes on the winter sapphire. “I’m just wondering how far they’ll go.”

The Skyline straightened and sped into the second tier of the garage for another loop of drifting. This time they were joined by the RX-7 for a precision dance in high-performance horses. Heading into the first loop, the Skyline’s lights momentarily flickered and then flickered again. Kogami reached for the headlight control and responded. The RX-7’s lights flashed, and the dance of three became four as the Supra joined them. All four cars drifted right, straightened, and then drifted left in a carefully orchestrated waltz on wheels. 

Finally, the Skyline’s driver straightened the car, slowing the pace. Turning off his headlights and guided by only the dim glow of his parking lights, he drove up to the third tier where he came to a stop and completely turned off his lights. Kogami followed suit and pulled up beside him as did the remaining two drivers.

The darkness was complete. For a full three seconds. In an eruption of vibrant neon, the parking level burst to life with light, color, and the deep bass of electronic dance music. A crowd of 60 or more people blew noisemakers and threw confetti into the air. Holographic cameras replayed lucid camera footage of the cat and mouse chase from across the city, as well as Kogami’s quarter mile heats and the qualifying runs from the car show. 

The Patriarchs got out of their cars and joined the party goers. Showing only base interest, Kogami slowly got out of the Porsche and sat on the hood. Crossing his arms over his chest, he took in the sights. There were catering trucks, just like the strip, but these were serving wine and cheese. Serving gourmet ice cream, a vendor opened a second and third customer window, where another worker was handing out fruits and salads. There was even a truck serving bowls of noodles and fresh vegetables.

Joining Kogami at the front of the car, Akane squirmed anxiously at his side. Her stomach growled noisily as she eyed the food vendors with yearning. “Shouldn’t you go after them?” She was on the case, but her eyes followed a couple as they left the ice cream vendor with cones in their hands.

“Can’t look too eager. Besides, we haven’t been invited,” Kogami replied. He watched as the three Patriarchs made their way through the crowd to a tall, black man dressed in a blue Armani suit and shades. “That’s him. The Pit Boss: Luda.”

Before Akane could comment, her stomach growled again loudly. “Kogami?”

Kogami locked eyes with the leader of the Patriarchs and held the man’s firm gaze before looking away. Putting a hand on her shoulders, Kogami nodded to the ice cream vendor. “We haven’t eaten since breakfast. Why don’t you go get a popsicle?”

“A popsicle?” Akane chirped eagerly. “I was thinking noodles.” She held her hands over her belly to quiet the rumbling in the pit of her stomach.

“Suit yourself.” Kogami laughed softly. “I think we passed the test. Might as well celebrate.”

“Maybe I’ll have a popsicle and then noodles,” she mused aloud. “Do you want one?”

“Cherry, if they have it,” he called after her. 

Though Kogami wanted to take in the many distractions about him, his eyes were fixed on Akane. The micro kilt gave her a a flawless, long-legged stature that was difficult to miss but not difficult to appreciate, even in a crowd of attractive, scantily clad young women. While Akane’s fresh look was quite alluring, there was a playfulness that enticed and teased him as he watched her walk away in her red Converse sneakers. 

As a smile curled in one corner of his mouth, he leaned back on the Porsche and delighted in the subtle swaying of her hips. Being shorter than the vendor window, she had to stand on tiptoe to receive the popsicles, and the motion flexed her prominent calf muscles. He took a deep breath and committed the image to memory. There was a lot that he had missed beneath that gray business suit. A mistake that he would not make again.

“Hello, sexy.”

Kogami turned to regard a woman dressed in all black ruffles and lace. It was as if someone had gift wrapped her in nothing more than a wide black ribbon and set her loose in the world. The fabric was barely enough to cover her substantial breasts and keep her decent in public.

With more than an ample amount of flesh showing below the mini skirt, she ran her hands through her dark hair and smiled up at him with a wink. “Those were some serious moves out there.” She ran her hand along the inside of his knee and up his inner thigh. “How’d you like to show me some of those moves a little later?” Cocking her head to the side, she seductively rolled her tongue over her lips. “You don’t mind if I have a seat, do you?” 

“I do actually,” he replied before she could sit beside him. Kogami brushed her hand away from his leg. “But not as much as she does.” He pointed to Akane.

Standing aghast with two popsicles in her hands, Akane cocked her hip sharply to one side. She looked like a video game character before powering up and going ballistic in a final boss battle. Lips pressed into a thin, jealous line that made her look remarkably more mature than her age and remarkably more attractive, she tapped her foot irritably against the concrete floor. “Do you mind not touching him? There’s no telling where those hands have been.”

“No offense, honey,” the newcomer said, “but you’re yesterday’s after-THOT. Out with the old and in with the new, I say.” The interloper turned her back on Akane and leaned over the hood of the car, all the while staring up at Kogami. “Around here, lover, we throw the little ones back in the pond.” She stood up abruptly and walked away from the car toward Akane. Snatching the popsicles from Akane’s hands, the groupie licked one and then the other. With a surly, almost malevolent grin, she held the cherry-flavored treat up to Kogami’s lips.

He raised his hand to stop her. “That was a bad move.”

“What? Getting rid of her or leaning on your car?”

“Turning your back after insulting her.”

The woman turned to confront Akane and was met with a vicious closed fist to the face. There was barely time for her to stumble back a step before Akane caught her a second time with a left hook. Blood trickled from both of her nostrils as she staggered like a drunken ballerina.

“Who are you calling an after-THOT?” Akane piped. Grabbing the woman by the hair, she dragged her around in a circle before throwing her to the ground. Taking the fallen popsicles, Akane shoved one down the woman’s ruffled top. “Remember the cold the next time you set your sights on what doesn’t belong to you.” She was preparing to bury the other popsicle elsewhere, below the waist, to drive home her point, but Kogami wrapped an arm about her waist and held her back.

“You’ve made your point,” he whispered in her ear. 

Hands on her hips, Akane glared on as the woman slinked away in humiliation. Casting that intimidating scowl around at the assembled crowd of racers and spectators, she asked, “Anyone else?” When her challenge went unanswered, Akane settled herself beneath his shoulder and wrapped herself in Kogami’s arm. “Didn’t think so.”

Trying with great difficulty not to laugh, Kogami held her close and did his best to console her. “Feel better?”

“You did say to act like an Enforcer.”

Leaning his forehead against her temple, Kogami felt the heat rising from her skin. “What would Ginoza say?”

“He’d lecture me, but he’d blame you.” Akane looked at her phone, working the holographic keyboard with one hand. Still angry at the intrusion, she growled at the display screen.

“What’s wrong?”

“The translator isn’t working,” she complained. “What’s a THOT?”

Kogami laughed uncontrollably. “You could always text Kagari. I bet he’d know.”

Appreciating the recent display of driver performance and girl drama, the crowd applauded and shouted accolades. Slowly, the fanfare faded and the applause died away until there was but one man clapping: Luda Banks. Meticulously groomed, the Pit Boss grinned with the authentic presence of royalty. 

“Bravo, Cerberus.” The deep baritone of his voice reverberated in the silence beneath the garage ceiling. He gestured toward the wall holos and the various replay footage of Kogami’s exploits through the city. “I owe you thanks.”

“Cerberus?” Kogami questioned. “As in the Hound of Hell?”

“That’s the name my Patriarchs have given you. It’s rare that anyone can make their hearts beat faster than their pistons.” The three Patriarchs stared at Kogami across the crowded room. As Luda approached, the spectators and racers between them parted, which cleared a path directly to Kogami. “The last driver to best Tsuki in the quarter mile drove that very car. But you are not that man.”

“Not trying to be.” Kogami tapped a cigarette from the pack and lit it. “Just looking for a little distraction.”

“She’s not enough?” Luda bowed, taking Akane’s hand, and kissed the back of it.

“Man’s got to have a little something on the side to keep him honest.” He grunted audibly when Akane dug her elbow into his rib cage. The comment and her reaction brought laughter from the group and from Luda.

“Then you’ve come to the right city. Los Angeles is home to delights and distractions of of all kinds. I am the Lord Patriarch, Luda. But first, before we continue, I need to know, and I really _need_ to know. Are you a tourist, or are you down for getting freaky with the natives?”

“Is that an invite?”

“An invitation. Given only because _she’s_ a native.” Luda pointed to indicate the Porsche. “You’re not.”

Kogami watched the ash from his cigarette fall to the concrete floor. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Depends. Having bested one of my Patriarchs and put the others to task, I’m curious. And when I’m curious, the whole fof Purgatory is curious.”

“Name the sport.”

“The name of the game is Around the World.”

“What’s the entry fee?”

“A nickel,” Luda replied. “A nickel large. This ain’t go-karts, friend. You run here? You run with the big dogs.”

“Then make it a dime,” Kogami said. “I can’t see breaking a sweat for less than $10,000.”

Luda dropped back a step and deftly spun in a circle on his heel. With a half-cocked smile on his face, he leaned to one side as if gravity had suddenly shifted. “You got nice bookends, Cerberus,” he said, eyeing Akane and then the Porsche. “I see that both of them can pack a punch, but are your pockets deep enough?”

“My girls can hold their own.” Kogami looked at Akane with a wry smile on his lips. “They’re proven, don’t you think?”

“You certainly know how to make an impression.” Luda watched close-up footage from the figure-8 track. “A dime you say?”

Kogami ran his hand across Akane’s shoulders. “Pay the man.”

Akane tucked her chin demurely and played the role she had practiced with the female vice cops back at the precinct. Reaching in her shirt, she tugged the roll of $100 bills from her cleavage and handed it to Luda with a respectful nod. Blowing him a kiss, she readjusted her push-up bra and retreated to Kogami. As he wrapped his arms around her waist and perched his chin on her shoulder, she sat back between his legs on the car.

With an eyebrow raised, Luda asked, “You hit that?”

“Every day. Sometimes three times a day,” Kogami replied. He kissed her neck as she ran a hand through his tousled black hair. “But one man isn’t quite enough, you know?” He rubbed his fingers up and down her thigh. “Some days I can’t keep up. That’s why I race fast cars.” 

“We all have our habits, Cerberus. If she can navigate as good as she looks, you might actually win back some of your cash.” Luda turned to the crowd and held up the money roll. “Denizens, minions, fellow outcasts, we have a rare treat on the menu tonight: Around the World! Buy in is high stakes—a dime! You suckers in or out? Who’s brave enough to drive against the big, bad wolf.”

“Need to get my street cred back,” Tsuki said. She tossed a wad of cash to Luda.

“I’m in,” said Sung. He handed his payment to the Pit Boss, and behind him, Brian followed suit, putting his money in the pot.

“Now the house really _is_ on fire. All three Patriarchs online?” Luda shook his head incredulously. “We have four. Is there a fifth.”

“Make it five, Luda.” Kogami recognized the driver of the BMW M5. “Need my street cred back, too,” he said, glaring at Kogami.

“Is there a sixth?” Luda inquired.

Kogami crossed his arms over Akane’s chest and from over her shoulder. “What about you, Pit Boss?”

A palpable tension swept through the crowd. Even the Patriarchs react with raised eyebrows or head shaking.

“Didn’t mean to be rude,” Kogami said.

Luda eyed Kogami with skepticism. “As tempting as my participation may be, someone needs to be the recorder of this deeds.” Once more dramatically playing to the crowd, he shouted, “Five mighty horsemen and their steeds at the gate! A dime to buy in. Is there anybody up for these stakes and what promises to be a night to remember?”

“Count me in.” Still counting money from the passenger seat of a green Mitsubishi Evolution, a man in his twenties handed over his entry fee to Luda.

With a satisfied smile that reminded Kogami of a tiger after slowly strangling its prey, Luda closed his eyes and raised his hands to the ceiling. “The betting windows are open, ladies and gentlemen. Make your wagers. Don’t hedge your bets. Post time in 15 minutes!”

As the music was cranked up, the crowd swelled for place in the confines of the parking tier. The vendor trucks swapped food and drink entrees for betting tickets. Intermittently playing footage from the night’s events, the holo screens were interrupted with a display of the participating drivers, their cars, and the odds of their winning the race.

Kogami frowned because the odds were clearly stacked against them and put BabyGirl down for a fifth place finish. With the uneven tide of the betting, the Porsche moved between fourth place and dead last, which did little for his ego.

Kogami threw his cigarette to the ground and crushed it out. “Got anything else down there I should know about?” he said in Japanese. Playfully reaching down into Akane’s bra, he feigned fear as she swatted his fingers. “You played that out well.”

“This is actually quite interesting,” Akane replied. “Except for hitting that girl.” She frowned in remorse. 

“She deserved it.”

“It made the point.” Akane watched the swelling crowds at the betting windows. “What do you think would happen if there was a cymatic scanner in here?”

“I think it would have imploded by now.” 

“Five minutes until post time!” Luda shouted above the tumult of voices. “Drivers to the gate for final instructions!”

The excitement in the garage complex was tangible as spectators gathered around a central area near the exit ramp. As favored odds continued to fluctuate on the holographic screens, the truck vendors closed out their final bets and returned to serving food and drinks to the assembled party goers. But now, the dining fare was as high stakes as the race that was about to begin: escargot served with Black Cherry Cabernet, caviar and Pinot Noir, and Egyptian dates served with a spiced rum. Kogami was duly impressed.

Luda Banks held his hands up for silence and was answered. He smiled across the ocean of enthusiastic faces. Straightening the lapel of his expensive suit, he took a deep breath and sighed it out. “My faithful Denizens, welcome to a night of nights. As a courtesy to our tourists, I’ll breakdown the finances. Around the World is the first order on the menu with a nominating fee of 10 large to buy in. That’s $10,000 to get in the gate. Six cars have been entered. Six drivers have paid the fee. Six contenders will come to the line to be judged.

“That means a prize purse of $60,000, friends. There’s a 10% service fee off the top, rendered for my facilitation services. Winner takes 50% of the remaining pot with diminishing returns for the driver who can Place or Show. Drivers, select your navigator.” With a flourish of his hands, Luda turned to a line up of beautiful women behind him. “These girls have been around the world many times, if you know what I mean. You won’t find more experienced navigators beyond this underground. Or,” he cast a glance at Kogami and Akane, “if you’ve brought your own, it will save you 10% of your winnings. It’s 10% of your purse for the ladies, if you win.”

Kogami chewed at the inside of his lip and looked down at Akane. “Might get scary out there. I’m sure one these girls would be happy to sit in for you.”

“Keep talking like that, and I won’t need a Dominator to paralyze you!” she hissed in his ear.

“Fair enough,” he replied. “You’ve been warned.”

One woman from the line-up was selected by every driver, including Tsuki, who took her navigator by the hand and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

“The appointed hour has come!” Luda said loudly. “Glory and light of poets! Virgil, initiate program!”

The lights went out, bringing complete darkness to the Denizens on the garage level. With a flutter, the neon lights and strobes slowly came back on until the tier was filled with a dim, eerie illumination and a low-creeping smoke. 

“They certainly enjoy their theatrics,” Kogami said.

“If it’s supposed to be scary, it’s working,” Akane replied, gripping his arm tightly.

“If I cannot move heaven, I will raise hell,” a deafening voice declared.

The voice emanated from every car speaker and subwoofer, phone receiver, and walkie talkie within range. In a fanfare of rolling percussion and blasting horns, the grainy holographic image of a man rose with a low wall of flames. The digital apparition was dressed in a simple, gray tunic beneath a flowing toga in the style of Ancient Rome. Phasing in and blurring out at odd intervals, the noble image of the famed poet finally coalesced in full relief. 

“Wasn’t exactly expecting that,” Kogami remarked.

“An AI. Incredible.” Akane stood entranced by the lifelike image. “It’s like a holo avatar.”

“At your bidding, Lord Patriarch, I have come. How may I serve?” The artificial intelligence bowed respectfully from the waist.

“Tonight, Virgil, the Denizens have requested Around the World,” Luda said.

“Calculating.” The holo faded into a swarming mass of miasma and light before coalescing into a definitive city grid and map of the city of Los Angeles. “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” A red blip pulsed on the grid. “You are here.” There was a brief chorus of laughter for the AI’s sense of humor. “Stand and send forth the champions.”

“Scan for six contenders.”

“Online: Tsuki—Patriarch Beatrice.” The image of a forlorn woman in a form-fitting gown appeared on the holographic map. “Online: Brian—Patriarch Wraith.” An amorphous apparition with yellow eyes phased in on the holo. “Online: Sung—Patriarch Charon.” The silhouette of the Grim Reaper, hand extended for payment, joined tshe other markers. “Online: Error detected.”

“State the nature of the error.”

“Online: Reese—Patriarch Archangel. How is this possible? Do the dead dream of racing with the living? Initiate deletion?”

“Negative,” Luda said, a hint of remorse in his voice. “Overwrite the code.” 

“Online: Shinya—Patriarch Cerberus.”

Akane’s grip on his arm tightened in fear. “How did it know your name?” She fell silent at Kogami’s insistence.

Luda waved his hand in protest. “Correction. In his place of birth, people go by their last names.”

“Correction parameter accepted. Online: Kogami—Patriarch Cerberus.” The holographic representation of the three-headed hound of hell appeared on the map.

Kogami unfolded his arms and stood up. At nearly six feet tall, he was an inch taller than the Pit Boss. “Patriarch? Don’t I have to earn that title?”

“She already has,” Luda replied, glancing at the Porsche. “I only hope that you can live up to her legacy.”

“Something’s downloading onto my phone,” Akane whispered to Kogami. She swiped across the screen to halt the process but the screen would not acknowledge her gestured command.

“My apologies,” Luda said. “That would be Virgil. He has a tendency to be overly assertive.”

“But why?” Akane questioned, helpless to stop the download.

“Virgil keeps track of the cars via GPS positioning during the race,” Kogami answered. “But to access the maps and use them for navigation requires being plugged in. Am I right?”

“Virgil is your way to Paradise and the finish line. That is if you still want to race?” Luda responded. “I’ll understand if you back out.”

Resenting the insinuation, Kogami grinned. “Not a chance.”

Luda clapped his hands together and cautiously patted Kogami on the shoulder. “Didn’t think so. Once Cerberus has a sinner in his teeth, it’s rare that he ever lets go.”

“The way is prepared,” Virgil said. The holographic map zoomed in on a coastal view of the city. “Whoever has courage in his breast, let him come forward, lace on the gloves and put up his hands.“ 

Luda quickly glanced at his watch and, once more raising his arms for quiet, took center stage beneath the map. “The city’s terminal has been hacked, courtesy of yours truly. For the next three hours, we have unfettered access to eight miles of the most pristine city streets from the strip to the coast. All traffic has been deferred to alternate routes in the city, except of course for local traffic. Consider that a bit of flavoring for the feast.

“If you stray outside of these barriers, you will alert the police and shorten the evening’s festivities. Forget being disqualified, you’ll earn a three-month ban from all events _and_ forfeit your money.

“There are five pre-selected crossings that have not yet been determined. Your task is to navigate to those spots as quickly as you can, however you can, and get back here before your opponents do. You can’t just be _near_ the crossing, you must navigate through it, wherever that might be. 

“You’ll be sent out in 10 second intervals to loop the block,” Luda explained. “When all players are on the map, the first crossing will be displayed. Thirty seconds later, the second crossing will appear and so on. Cerberus, you may not know our fair city, but there’s no need. Follow the crossings and come back to the gate to win. It’s post time, boys and girls. Saddle up.” 

Kogami opened the passenger side door to let Akane get in before seating himself behind the Porsche’s steering wheel. After strapping himself in, he leaned over to help secure her harness.

“This Virgil is amazing,” Akane said, working her fingers across the phone screen. “The application is incredibly interactive. Do you think Luda created it?”

“I’d have to say yes, especially because he seems to have such control over how it operates.” Kogami caressed the stick shift until it was warm against the palm of his hand. “And to think that such a man would find himself sitting in an isolation cell if we were in Japan.”

“Do you think you can win this Around the World?”

“Not according to these odds.” Thinking about Phoenix, Kogami frowned and stared into the darkness at his feet. Despite the dim illumination, the winter sapphire captured what little light there was and cast a small blue halo across the console. “But when something is important enough, the odds don’t matter.”

“Standby, Cerberus,” Virgil said through the car speakers.

Kogami watched intently as the Supra raced out of the garage area and down a level onto the street below. Ten seconds later, the RX-7’s distinctive tail lights vanished into the darkness behind it. “Here we go.”

Like Thoroughbreds being led to the starting gate, the cars were directed out of the garage with applause to await the commencement of the race. The field was an impressive one: a Toyota Supra, a Mazda RX-7, a Nissan Skyline GT-R, a Porsche 911 GT, a Mitsubishi Evolution X, and a BMW M5. With their lights cutting into the night, the cars circled like a frenzy of prowling sharks. 

Giving an alert through a dull tone that reminded Kogami of a school bell, the screen of Akane’s phone lit up with a holographic image of the philosopher. “The descent into Hell is easy. On your mark, champions. Three...two...one.” As the first GPS crossing was revealed, there was a roaring of engines and the squealing of tires, and the six high performance cars scattered in what seemed to be every possible direction.

Kogami felt the firm embrace of the five-point restraint harness press against him as the Porsche raced forward with a tap on the accelerator. He settled back into the security of the bucket seat. BabyGirl reminded him of the sensitive, but talented stallion Touch the Sky. Bred to perform and in the right hands outperform any competition. The car was a masterpiece of craftsmanship and magnificence that he had ignored earlier, but now under the pressure, his confidence hinged on that quality, and not just skill. “What have we got?”

“An alley two blocks over,” Akane replied. “Follow them. If you make a quick right turn here—“

“Find another way! Winning this won’t happen by following the herd. We need to make our own path.”

“C-can you safely do that?”

“That’s why it’s called Around the World, Akane. Virgil sets the crossing, and we get to it anyway we can. Now find another way.”

“There’s a section where the ally intersects with another street. It’s directly on top of the crossing. But getting there, Kogami, you risk crashing into the other cars.”

“BabyGirl is configured for street racing, this is what she’s meant to do. There is nothing too challenging here for her, so long as I know how to handle the situation,” Kogami said. “So help us know the situation. Look for a gap.”

Akane opened the holographic imaging of the city grid and created a multiple-layered view to manipulate. “Speed up. If we can get there in the next few seconds, we’ll miss the first two racers.”

“Who’s leading the pack?”

“The Supra. No surprise. Followed by the Skyline.”

“Alright, count on Sung and the RX-7 to make up the distance.” He downshifted and sped up through the narrow alleyway. “You can either close your eyes for this or help me through it,” Kogami teased. “This might be a little scary.”

Fear gave way to fury as her eyes narrowed. “If your driving was so good, why not make your move between the Skyline and the RX-7?”

“Alright, you’re the navigator,” Kogami said. He downshifted again and Porsche bolted forward, roaring in response to the demand as they sped through the narrow alley. The sound of the engine reverberated up the sides of the buildings and made the small car sound like a dragon on a strafing run. He could see the intersection of the alleys and had confirmation as a lavender blur shot across him, closely followed by the blurry, blue outline of a Skyline.

Akane clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. Her face went pale, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Kogami downshifted for good measure and punched the accelerator. BabyGirl responded with a hiss of rubber on the asphalt and shot forward with a burst of speed. There was a slight rise in the street as the Porsche sped across the intersection, which momentarily sent the featherweight 911 airborne. For a terrified moment, the RX-7’s high beams appeared only a dozen feet away from Kogami’s window before vanishing into the shadows behind them. 

It was a narrow miss. BabyGirl landed with a skid that Kogami fought to control and then proceeded into the darkness. Fearing that his reckless maneuver might have spooked Sung, Kogami listened for the sounds of mayhem, but heard only revving engines and shrieking tires. Two more sets of headlights raced by to confirm all was well on course. 

“Whew, that was close,” Kogami said.

The holographic Virgil appeared above the phone screen. “Fortune favors the bold! Cerberus, takes third place!”

“You alright?” Kogami asked. He couldn’t risk looking at Akane while stabilizing the steering wheel.

“Just give me a minute.”

Hearing an alert from the phone, Kogami shook his head. “We don’t have a minute. Where’s the next crossing?”

“Kogami, the next crossing is behind us. _Directly_ behind us.”

“Don’t panic,” he said. “Find me the best place for a U-turn.”

Akane quickly manipulated the map and zoomed in for a better layout of the immediate area. “There’s a bakery ahead of us. There’s a loading dock in the rear of it.”

“Can we make it?” 

Akane leaned over the console and put her hand in his lap, where she proceeded to rub her fingers along the inside of his thigh. 

Kogami stiffened involuntarily and lost all focus. The Porsche fishtailed precariously and took out a trash can from the side of the wall. “Not like that, we won’t. What are you ddoing?”

“That was payback for slapping me on the butt back in front of all those people,” she complained. “Do I have your attention?”

“Fully.”

“The bakery is a straight shot out of this alley, but watch yourself. According to these dimensions, there’s just barely enough room to make the U-turn into a parallel alley. Don’t get cocky, or you’ll crash into the wall.”

As they barreled toward the loading dock, Kogami turned the wheel hard, bending the Porsche to his purpose. Easing up on the throttle, the 911 drifted into the turn, until he tapped the accelerator again and let the wheels bite and grip the road. Missing the brick walls by inches, BabyGirl slid sideways out of the alley. Deftly, he straightened the car only for a moment, Kogami then threaded the needle back into the other alley to head back in the correct direction of the race.

“Slow down, Kogami, and I mean really slow it down!” Akane warned. 

“Not often I hear you say that.”

“Would you be serious? There’s a slight turn leading to the crossing. You’re heading into the first one too fast.”

“It’s called a dog leg,” Kogami said calmly, glancing at the map. “Don’t worry. It’s not really a challenge.” He accelerated and sent the Porsche flying into the subtle turn. Behind them and ahead, he could hear the distinct thunder of engines under duress and tires fighting for purchase on the asphalt. In the narrow city canyons of brick and stone, the reverberation of precision-tuned cars boomed through the shadows. 

“Love conquers all,” the holographic image of Virgil said. “Third place, Cerberus.”

“Still in third,” Kogami mused. “We can do better than that. Where’s the next crossing?”

“It’s about a half mile away,” Akane reported. “Virgil didn’t make it easy to get there either. There’s new construction underway in the area. It’s a virtual labyrinth of dead ends and switchbacks to get there.”

“We can’t afford that. Put that MWPSB training of yours to good use, Inspector. The obvious way is not always the best way.”

“We usually have Enforcers to sniff out the less obvious course,” she retorted.

“Want to switch? You drive, and I’ll navigate.”

She exhaled angrily and went back to manipulating the map. “There is a straight shot to the crossing, but it’s not a road.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s a kind of aqueduct.” Using calculations within the app, Akane added, “There’s very little precipitation in this city, so I don’t think there’s much to worry about except the steep angles of the wall. If you can manage it, this shortcut will certainly get you ahead of the others. And it looks like the crossing intersects with a bridge.”

“While they’re crossing the bridge, we’ll be going under it?” Kogami grinned at his good fortune. 

“This car rides fairly low, Kogami. You could bottom out if you take that route.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that.” He tapped the brake and slid into the next right turn, which sent the car’s tail end spinning in reaction to the accelerator. The Porsche responded with a more graceful slide as the rear tires bit into the asphalt and carried the car on course through the curves. “Where’s this aqueduct?”

“You’re driving right beside it, but Kogami—“

“Akane, you’ve got to trust me. So long as we stay parallel, we’ll be fine.” He let the Porsche ease over the side of the steeply angled aqueduct. Clearing the edge, he brought the car onto the sloped concrete and continued that angled approach toward the flat bottom of the basin.

“That was impressive,” Akane said.

“We’re not there yet.”

Akane snapped her head around and glared at him. “You ask me to trust you and then you say something like that?”

“Just keeping it real, Inspector. Is that the bridge ahead?” He knew the answer to the question before she could respond. Four sets of headlights turned onto the roadway leading up to the bridge and then moved at speed toward the crossing.

Determined to make the checkpoint before Tsuki, Kogami brought the Porsche down off the slope. The car bobbled slightly, the undercarriage brushing against the concrete as he raced down into the basin area at nearly 80mph. Downshifting for immediate speed, Kogami pressed the Porsche for more power and blasted his way beneath the bridge as the fury of high-octane engines roared overhead.

“Trust not too much to appearances,” the holo of Virgil said. “Welcome to first place, Cerberus.”

“You did it!” Akane shouted.

“That was the easy part,” Kogami said. “Keeping the lead? That’s going to be hard. Can’t imagine that second place sits too well with Tsuki. Where to next?”

“Looks like the course really does take us around the world. The third crossing has us heading for a port authority terminal on the city’s edge.”

“A shipyard and docking area?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe Luda managed to shut down this much of the city. There’s a causeway that leads directly into the terminal. You’re headed straight for it.”

“A causeway, huh? How long is it?”

“According to the map, it’s nearly three miles long. If you exit this aqueduct on the right side, make one left turn and another right, you’ll be right on it.”

“Or if I take that ramp over on the left, we come out onto the causeway at full speed.”

“That’s a _maintenance_ ramp, Kogami. Babygirl may not fit!”

“If she’s got hips like yours, we might be in trouble.” 

“Kogami!”

Kogami downshifted again to bring up the Porsche’s speed. He chuckled through gritted teeth and did his best to ignore Akane’s furious glare. Her ire didn’t last long. As he sped straight toward the ramp, she squealed in terror and brought her knees up to her chin to hide her face. 

Once again moving across the differentiated slopes, the car’s undercarriage lightly scraped the concrete due to the angle of the ramp. Given no room for error, Kogami squeezed the Porsche’s slender profile through the narrow maintenance space and emerged onto the causeway in one piece. Except for the graceful, towering necks of the port’s light poles on each side of the access road, they were alone.

“Are we still alive?” Akane whispered. Her hands were crossed over her chest as she clutched the phone beneath her chin.

“You can’t exactly navigate from that position, or can you? Where’s the next crossing?”

There were no headlights to be seen in the rearview mirror, but with the speed of the Supra and the Skyline, Kogami was taking no chances. He unleashed the full power of the 911’s engine on the straightaway. The car’s point of gravity shifted to the rear tires and lightened the front like a derby horse unleashed in the homestretch. 

Akane’s eyes went wide as the scenery passing by them blurred. Even the light beaming down on them seemed to meld together, becoming synchronous streaks, as the Porsche raced unchallenged down the causeway. “Kogami, how fast are you going?” 

“Haven’t hit 200 yet, if that makes you feel any better, but I’m working on it.” He downshifted to punctuate his words with action. The Porsche lunged forward playfully and accelerated. Its speedometer reported a velocity over 190mph. “Akane, where’s the next crossing? The end of this causeway is coming up fast.”

Manipulating the layers with trembling fingers, Akane stared into the holographic map. “This can’t be right. Looks like the next crossing is in a building, a warehouse of some sort on the north side.”

“Actually inside the structure?”

“It’s hard to tell. I can’t zoom in any farther.”

“Then it’s inside.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s a port. Everything here is commercial: massive inventory requires equally massive shipping crates and containers. Got to have room to store all of it.”

Coming off the causeway, Kogami took his foot off the pedal and let the car drift into the outer perimeter of the shipyard. There was a lazy s-curve turn aligned between the towering stacks of containers. Kogami let inertia guide the Porsche through the drift and kept the vehicle on a strict apex to glide through columns of empty shipping crates. Stacked 80-feet high, the containers creating a metal labyrinth into the port and its docks.

“I’m guessing that’s our destination?” Kogami pointed to a concrete-block building built on a raised foundation in the immediate boundary of the terminal’s shipping and storage yard.

“It is, but I still can’t tell where the crossing is. It can’t really be inside that warehouse, can it? Maybe you should stay outside and see—“

“We improvise. You said north side?”

“Yes.”

“North side it is.” Kogami downshifted to second and let the Porsche drift sideways up the entrance ramp to prevent the car from bottoming out on the steep slope. Before the car’s tires could get hung up over the edge of the concrete ramp, he tapped the throttle and slid onto the main floor of the warehouse. Nearly as large as a commercial jet hangar, the first level of the warehouse was a large, airy room with nothing more in it than dust, cobwebs, and a few plastic bangs skittering across the slippery floor.

Slowing to a crawl, Kogami guided the Porsche to the north side of the building and up a low ramp that led up to the next level. Meant to accommodate forklifts, it was a tight fit in the corridor. BabyGirl sat poised between the concrete wall and a flimsy metal railing that guarded a 15-foot drop to the floor below. As he continued on his course, the holographic image of Virgil popped up. “Easter egg! Congratulations! Go forth a conqueror and win great victories! First place!”

“Right now, Kagari would be wetting his pants,” Kogami said. “As for myself, I have no idea what all that meant.”

“By coming inside the building to make the crossing, you activated some sort of advantage. Kogami, the fifth crossing has appeared,” Akane said. “And it says here that even after the other racers hit this checkpoint, the last one will not appear for a full 60 seconds because of what you did.”

“So the Easter egg was a reward for taking a risk and coming into a tight spot.” Kogami shrugged. “Can’t let that go to waste.” 

Despite its diminutive size, the Porsche itself was now stuck in a tight spot. A right turn out of the warehouse was not possible without dropping a tire over the edge and bottoming out on the concrete. To avoid jeopardizing their lead, Kogami gunned the engine and spun the wheels to make a sharp left and continued on the second-floor walkway before braking.

“What are you doing?”

“You might want to close your eyes.”

“Kogami!”

He punched the accelerator, but feathered the clutch until the Porsche’s tires conjured smoke. The front end of the car remained virtually still, but the rear tires spun and shifted the back end of the car by 90 degrees. Once straightened, Kogami put the car into reverse and hit the throttle. The Porsche raced down the exit ramp backwards. Manipulating the clutch, Kogami shifted into first gear just before the back tires were about to hit the bottom. The car spun in a 180-degree J-turn and leaped forward at speed. He straightened out the wheel and raced away from the warehouse.

Sensing Akane’s curious eyes on him, Kogami cut his eyes over to her. She was panting, struggling to catch her breath. “What?”

“When we get home, the first thing I’m going to do is get a Dominator and—“

“And shoot me?” Kogami asked. Feigning hurt feelings, he frowned and pushed his lower lip out for effect. “When I’m behaving myself?”

“Don’t you dare make that face, Shinya Kogami!” Akane screamed. A bit of bass came into her voice. “You are far from behaving appropriately!”

He laughed. “Yeah, I know. But we’re winning, doesn’t that count for something?”

“You’re hopeless.” Akane bowed her head and groaned in resignation. “That must have been some physics class.”

“It was.” Racing back toward the causeway, Kogami worked his way through the maze of shipping containers and dock equipment. As BabyGirl raced away from the docks, the competition was speeding in to find the crossing. Kogami waved at them and playfully honked the horn before fully opening up the throttle down the three-mile causeway. “Looks like we lost one along the way. I only counted four cars.”

“Considering the difficulty of this course, are you surprised?” Akane asked. 

“I love this car. Think we can take her home?”

“Somehow I don’t see Chief Kasei signing off on that.”

“Too bad. I think BabyGirl would go a long way to keeping my crime coefficient in check.”

“Or have just the opposite effect!”

“Now you’re just being mean, Inspector. Where to, navigator?”

“The last crossing is a mile away the causeway access and two blocks to a roundabout,” she replied. “We’re right on that borderline that Luda warned about. If you cross that boundary, the police will come, and we’re disqualified.”

“I’ll be careful.”

The center of the roundabout featured a mahogany memorial obelisk that was decorated with wreathes of lights that simulated vines. Palm trees and street lamps, draped with the California state flag, were strategically placed on the perimeter at measured intervals. 

“This must be a residential area,” Akane said. “With the cars parked on the outside, that’s an awfully tight fit.” She stared at him and frowned. “Why are you going into the curve so fast? We have an excellent lead!”

“Still don’t trust me, do you?” 

Opting to ignore the brake, Kogami used the car’s shifting momentum to slow and reposition the Porsche before gunning the engines to steer BabyGirl through the traction of the tires. While their lead was extensive, Kogami was taking no chances. More than likely the competition had opted to take the faster crossing point on the outside of the warehouse and were at that moment barreling back down the causeway to catch him. “Might want to close your eyes for this part.” 

“You said that the last time and it didn’t help,” she complained.

“Don’t get mad at me then. I warned you.”

BabyGirl decelerated for only a moment and then lunged into the first arc of the roundabout. Carefully positioning the Porsche, Kogami tucked the left front tire in a drainage channel on the inside line, which anchored the car as it rotated through a drift that sent the rear of the 911 flying at an almost 45-degree angle. Kogami watched the winter sapphire as it swung into position and marked how narrowly the Porsche missed multiple collisions with the parked cars behind it by merely inches. Straightening the car, Kogami raced back to the parking garage.

The holographic image of Virgil appeared once more above the screen of Akane’s phone. “Wherever the fates lead us let us follow. First place, Cerberus!”

“Hey! Still with me?” he whispered to a stunned Akane. “Time to bring it home.”

“Remind me to strangle you when this is over,” she said in shock. “I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“Painfully short? Uninteresting? I can help with that.”

Lips pursed in fury, she glared at him and crossed her slender arms over her chest. The defiant act only served to make her breasts appear fuller as they pressed against the thin fabric of her top.

“You know, you look great,” Kogami said. “Forget to mention that in all the excitement.” When she didn’t respond, he decided to provoke her. “Have to admit, I’m a little turned on—“

“Kogami! Drive the car!”

With a smirk on his face, Kogami tapped the brakes and let the Porsche drift at a slight angle into the parking garage. The applause was thunderous. The shouts from the spectators grew loud enough to drown out the Porsche’s shrieking turbos. Alone in the winning pole position, he brought the car to a stop within feet of the appreciative crowd. Some seconds behind him, the first of the Patriarchs arrived: Tsuki. The lavender Supra came to a squealing halt, and the pretty driver, her lips pressed into a thin line, got out of the car and rested on the roof staring at him half in loathing, half in admiration.

One by one, the remaining Patriarchs returned to the starting point, Brian and then Sung. With each arrival, the swelling crowd grew more and more raucous until Luda held up his hand and called for their complete silence. Unsettled by the stillness, Kogami got out of the car slowly and went around to the passenger side to help Akane get out. Visibly shaken, she leaned heavily against him.

Luda handed her a silver flask. “Something to soothe your nerves,” he whispered. 

“Thanks, but I’m not sure I could keep it down.” Akane glared at Kogami and refused the Pit Boss’ offer.

Concern evident in his face, Luda checked the digital city grid. “Six horses ran but only four return to the stable?” 

The Pit Boss pointed to the images flashing across the various holographic screens on the walls. The night’s exploits were replayed in color from the hairpin in the alley to the wide open throttle on the causeway to the extended power slide through the roundabout. Luda held his hand out to a beautiful Hispanic woman with long, straight hair that swayed well below her waist. Dressed to kill in a silver mini-dress, she handed him a neat bundle of cash. “To beat the odds is one thing. To best my Patriarchs is quite another.” He shook his head dubiously. “Not a bad pay day, Cerberus. Doubled your investment and then some.”

“Did I live up to the legacy?” Kogami asked.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Luda bowed his head in respect and offered her the money. “Behind every great man is a goddess.” He glanced at his own partner and gently kissed her on the lips. “And truly, you are a goddess. No navigator has ever thought to penetrate the surface of the holo map and see what Virgil can really offer. You’ll be in high demand among drivers when the word gets out.” 

Without warning the neon lights of the chamber turned red and blue. They began to flash with intermittent pulses of white. “Virgil?” Luda asked.

“No other evil we know is faster than Rumor, unless it is a man’s pride,” the AI replied. “We are undone, Lord Patriarch. These games are finished and not of their own accord.”

New images were projected from various angles. All of them showed the same scene of the BMW M5 from the race. Trailing the Evolution, the M5 slid well off the racing line as it tried to make the roundabout at speed. The rear of the BMW collided with the parked cars before sliding out completely and wiping out a truck. Still moving with some velocity, the BMW flipped over the truck bed and came to rest upside down in someone’s well-manicured lawn.

“The barrier has been breached,” Virgil reported. “Law enforcement agents are enroute. ETA 3 minutes.”

“Well ain’t that a bitch,” Luda said angrily. “Amateur. Virgil, mark the driver of the BMW M5 for facial recognition.”

“Facial recognition complete. Status for the driver of the BMW M5?” the AI inquired. A rotating image of the driver appeared in the middle of the room.

“Banish to the ninth circle.”

“Never to be seen again.”

“Not even for tea. That’s a wrap, people!” Luda shouted. “You know the drill. Time for a scramble. Where are my lookouts?” Like the esteemed wagonmaster of a caravan, he gestured wildly in all directions of the garage level. 

The normal fluorescent lights above the concrete floor winked on and momentarily stunned the crestfallen crowd as they prepared for an immediate evacuation. On foot or in vehicles, the racers and spectators quickly exited out of the parking structure. In a single-file line of cars, trucks, and minivans, they made an expedient retreat to the city streets, where they scattered in all directions.

“I do wish we had more time,” Luda said with a heavy sigh.

“Is that it?” Kogami said, his tone ungrateful.

Reaching into his lapel pocket for a cigar, Luda handed it to Kogami. “Not by a long shot. I made a lot of money off you tonight, Cerberus. You’re not the only one who brought home a big pay day.”

“You bet against your Patriarchs?”

“Something in the stars moved me to do it. I have no regrets. I cannot say the same of Tsuki; however, she’s going to want her money back one way or another. In some manner of contest. How’s your hand to hand combat?” 

“Decent enough.”

Luda’s eyes widened at the prospect of a martial combat. “No quarrel about hitting a woman?”

“Not if it’s consensual.”

Luda grinned mischievously. “Maybe the next head to head between you two won’t require a road map.” Above the fading screech of tires, incoming police sirens could be heard. A sober expression came to Luda’s face. “Welcome to the family, Cerberus.” He kissed the back of Akane’s hand. “We race twice a week. Never on the same night. As always, let Virgil be your guide.”

“Any tips on getting out of here?” Kogami asked.

“Not knowing the city could be a real disadvantage, even after your successful Around the World tour.” Luda paused before climbing into the passenger seat of a yellow Corvette C5. “Virgil, plot escape route from the party.”

“Carnival By the Sea,” the AI replied. “Shall I set a crossing?”

“Set it and download to Patriarch Cerberus’ navigator.” Hearing the tone on Akane’s phone, he smiled at Kogami. “The Carnival of the Sea is a tourist trap at this time of night. Park your car and get lost in the crowd. Good luck.” Leading an entourage of vendor trucks and equipment vans, the Corvette darted down the ramp and sped into the night. Kogami and Akane were left alone on the emptied level as the lights in the garage began to dim.

“Guess, we’re on our own,” Kogami said. He watched the well-orchestrated scramble from over the edge of a concrete barrier.

“Not really,” Akane said. She held up her phone. “It’s Rodriguez. They’re on the way here now.” 

“And when they arrive, we won’t be here. Come on, get in the car.”

Akane rolled her eyes. “Kogami, why do I get the feeling this is going to be a bad idea?”

“I don’t know. This the most fun I’ve had since we got here. How can it be a bad idea?” Kogami quickly clicked himself into the five-point restraint harness. “Where to, navigator?”

“There’s only one crossing. Down the ramp and make a sharp left.”


	5. Chapter 5

On the run from a tenacious trio of LAPD pursuit cars, BabyGirl careened wildly onto the surface streets through a crowded intersection. Straight out of a video game, the Porsche’s tires screamed against the asphalt as the high-performance car made easy work of a 90-degree turn into oncoming traffic. Traveling against a red light, Kogami temporarily shook their pursuers and vanished by weaving into the intermittent traffic. 

Kogami glanced into the rearview mirror to watch the pursuit cars scatter in his wake. Hoping that the drivers were skilled enough to avoid any collisions, he held his breath and wished for the best possible outcome. He didn’t need to add any more damages to his expense account with the city of Los Angeles.

“Kogami, was that really necessary!” She had become increasingly short with him, ever since the drifting stunt in the roundabout.

“Akane, we are going to be arrested. It’s part of the plan,” Kogami said. “But remember what Rodriguez said? He said to make it look good. Even you have to admit, this looks good.”

Akane held her hand to her forehead, pressing her fingers into her furrowed brow, and struggled to regain control of her breathing.

“How are we doing?” His question was meant more to snap her out of her vexation and less about their situation. Their capture was inevitable, but Kogami meant to prolong the end outmaneuvering and outpacing the police for as long as he could. 

Akane manipulated the holographic map to find the best path to the crossing. “We’re only a few blocks away from the carnival.” 

“I see it.” The highest peak of a Ferris wheel could be seen on the skyline above a row of office buildings. As Kogami sped down the boulevard, he started seeing signs for the beach and boardwalk. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw nothing but civilian traffic behind them. With his bloodstream saturated with adrenalin, his heart thumped, almost painfully, against his breastbone. 

“Patriarch Cerberus,” Virgil said. The holographic relief of the poet appeared over Akane’s lap. “You have arrived at the Carnival By the Sea.”

“Virgil, how much of a lead do we have?”

“Through pain I’ve learned to comfort suffering men. Law enforcement has regrouped and will seek apprehension in 1 minute. Do not tarry, Hound of Hell, or you will be set on a leash.”

“Luda suggested that we park and move into the crowd,” Akane said. Still manipulating the map, she searched the immediate area. “Looks like public parking is limited to side streets, unless you go into one of the nearby municipal parking garages.”

“Can’t take the chance. They could block us in.” Gripping the steering wheel in one hand, Kogami downshifted and reveled in the g-forces as the Porsche leaped forward on command. 

Horrified, Akane followed his eyes to an empty, but distant spot in the small alley ahead of them. The curb was lined with cars parked perpendicularly to their position. “Kogami,” she whispered, studying the city grid in terror, “there’s a busy street between us and that spot.”

“And?”

“Are you serious!” Wrapping her hands in the five-point restraint, she shrunk back into the seat in fear. “You don’t even know if BabyGirl will fit.”

“She won’t fit if I try to park the regular way.”

“What other way is there to park a car?”

“Drift in for a perfect fit.”

“Kogami!” Akane screamed his name as he oversteered and brought the Porsche sideways. As if mocking her apprehension with its precision, the nimble 911 drifted sideways, speed increasing despite the maneuver, and coasted across the street on rubber, smoke, and fumes. 

Narrowly missing a collision with traffic on both sides of the street, BabyGirl remained in this oblique position. Carried through the drift by Kogami’s foot on the throttle and natural momentum, the car deftly maintained both angle and velocity before coming to an abrupt stop.

“That was easy, right?”

Akane opened her eyes to find that they had not only survived, but they were safely parked along the curb. This did little to alleviate the hysteria weighing heavily on her chest. In righteous fury, she slapped Kogami across the face. “Are you trying to kill us!”

With the imprint of her hand neatly outlined across his cheek, the Enforcer grinned at her with the menace. “Fun, admit it.” When she tried to slap him a second time, he caught her hand and pulled her in for a quick kiss, but she fought him. “We don’t have time for a tantrum.”

Kogami released himself from the safety harness and backed out of the car, while helping her crawl over the center console. He grabbed the black fedora from the back of the car and jammed it down over his ears. Together, they ran toward the lights and music of the carnival as police sirens wailed ominously in the distance. 

“Are we really running from the police?” Akane held onto his broad shoulders as Kogami lifted her up by the waist and put her on the other side of a low-lying beach fence. “These are our colleagues!”

“Yep. And if you want to help them, you’ll keep playing your role.” With an athletic leap, Kogami cleared the fence and joined her on the other side. Taking her hand, he glanced back at the swarm of blue and red lights before running into the crowd of festive carnival goers. 

Akane felt like a one-ton weight as he dragged her behind him. Remembering that she had twisted her ankle back at the station, he slowed down and darted behind a funnel cake vendor. “Is your ankle bothering you?” He could see that she was hurt, but not in a physical sense. Tears brimming in her eyes, her lips quivered even as she struggled to maintain her composure. Being angry was not a mood that suited her well.

Kogami ran his long fingers through the hair at the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Voice cracking with emotion, she replied, “But you did.”

He took a step back from her and lowered his chin. “If you had a Dominator here, you’d have every right to shoot me. No Dominator, so we’ll go with the next best thing. Take your best shot, Inspector. I won’t stop you.”

“What? You want me to punch you?”

“Makes Kagari feel better.”

“You let Kagari hit you in the face?”

“No, but the attempt makes him feel better.”

Nervously holding her hands over her mouth, Akane laughed. Having seen them spar in the gym, she could see the two Enforcers going at it. Kogami totally on the defense, dodging, while Kagari fought to land a punch. She stopped suddenly, remembering why she was angry with him. “Don’t try to distract me, Enforcer! If we were back home, I’d report you!”

“I’m sorry,” Kogami said. He cupped her face in both hands, looking into her eyes, and wiped away a tear with his thumb. Kissing her on the forehead, he lingered there, his lips brushing against her cool skin. “I promise to behave myself.”

“Why am I struggling to believe you?” Akane whispered. She was as quick to anger as she was to forgive him. Leaning into his warmth, she wrapped her arms around him and sighed away her frustrations. “Aren’t we still really close to the car?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Akane gently ran her fingers across his forearms and committed herself to the game. “Because we can’t get caught too soon or too easily. It won’t look good, right?”

“Right.” Looking for signs of their pursuers and finding none, Kogami led her down a path lined with food vendors. “Hungry?”

“Still not sure I could keep anything down.”

“Even something sweet?” Kogami put three dollars on the counter of the closest stand and accepted a pink, bouquet-sized cotton candy. He tipped the brim of the fedora to the salesman in thanks. Pulling off a small piece, he offered it to her, but she hesitated to accept it. “Don’t be mad at me. I’m just playing my role. Yakuza bad boy, remember?”

Unable to keep a straight face, Akane laughed and ate the offered sweet from his hand. “Are you trying to make up for scaring me half to death?”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Gently tracing the outline of the handprint on his face with the same fingers that had caused it, she frowned. “Or maybe I should be the one apologizing.”

“I deserved it.” Kogami abruptly stiffened while looking over her shoulder. 

“What is it?”

“Tenacious hounds, aren’t they? Don’t look.” 

“How many?”

“Two officers moving through the crowd,” he replied. “They’re doing a casual sweep of the area.” Kogami carefully watched them working the crowd. Taking Akane’s hand, he slipped into that same throng of people to disguise their presence. “Stay close.”

To evade capture, Kogami led Akane through the packed carnival lanes and even slipped into a haunted house attraction after buying a roll of ride tokens. Hiding in a darkened alcove with a cackling skeleton, he took a moment to stare into Akane’s eyes from beneath a tangled forelock of black hair. With a smile, he leaned over her and stole a tender kiss. 

He had a lot to make up for during their first few hours undercover. Encouraged by a girlish giggle, he stole another kiss and reveled in the feel of her lips on his. “We can’t stay in one place too long.”

“Wasn’t that Rodriguez we lost at the go-carts? Can’t believe he got that close to catching us.”

“Almost like he caught our scent.”

“I’m not surprised. The two of you do think alike.”

“Then I need to change things up.” Kogami peered around the front exit of the attraction. Suddenly, he ducked back inside on seeing a uniformed officer. Fortunately for them, the cop’s back was turned to them as he spoke to an elderly couple. The cop held up a tablet with pictures of Kogami and Akane.

“I was wondering if those mugshots they took would come in handy,” Akane whispered. She peered around the corner from beneath Kogami’s arm. “That doesn’t seem quite fair, does it?”

“With the MWPSB on the job, they need to even the odds as best they can.” He led her back into the labyrinthine corridors of the haunted house. “We’ll be taking the back door this time.”

“Here’s to hoping there is a back door.”

“If not, we’ll make one.”

After a few wrong turns and having to retrace their steps, Kogami found the rear exit to the attraction. Quickly descending the rickety metal steps, he picked Akane up from the raised platform and lifted her to the ground. Enveloped in darkness, the Enforcer slowly made his way to the side of the haunted house and hunched down in the shadow to scan the area. With no policemen in sight, he merged with the swarming crowd.

He was drawn to a sudden halt when Akane’s hand slipped from his grasp. Looking back over his shoulder, Kogami found her standing in a mob of on-lookers. “Akane?” He followed her transfixed eyes to a game booth. 

A dozen weathered, pellet guns lined the pitted front counter of a shooting range that had seen better days. Red and white targets were tacked to the back wall, which was framed by rows of stuffed panda bears in three different sizes and colors. 

A pale, lanky kid in dirty jeans and a frayed blue t-shirt manned the booth. A fiery red-head, he was wearing a greasy apron with pockets filled with tickets and ride tokens. “Step right up, lady. Try your luck and win a prize,” he said.

As if in a trance, Akane slowly extended her finger and pointed to the booth.

“A stuffed panda?” Kogami said in disbelief. “You want a panda toy? Now?”

“There’s a pink one,” she whispered. “Pink’s my favorite color.”

“Thought your favorite color was yellow.”

“There’s a yellow one, too.”

“You’re as bad as Phoenix. Maybe there’s a Japanese Cotton Finger, too.” Rolling his eyes, Kogami reached for his wallet. “How do you win the panda? I want a yellow one.”

“Pink,” Akane whispered.

“A pink one.”

“Five dollars for three shots. Hit the bull’s eye. Dead center, no line. Win a panda for your love. Take a chance for the pretty lady, sir?”

Kogami looked back at Akane, and sighed while shaking his head. He shoved the fedora back onto the crown of his head. Without really taking a moment to aim, he fired a cold shot. The pellet hit the target slightly to the left of the bull’s eye, as he suspected it might. Most carnival games were rigged, and to the unskilled marksman, there was not much that could be done to score a perfect mark. But with a discerning eye, a wolf’s eyes, Kogami hoped to prove that he was better than the general public of sheep. He adjusted accordingly and fired again, hitting the dead center of the target.

“And the man wins a panda for his lady love.” Snatching the target from the wall, the carnie handed it to Kogami along with a small stuffed panda.

When Kogami tried to hand the toy to her, Akane shook her head slowly from side to side. Chewing nervously at her fingernail, she refused to accept it and pointed to the back wall behind the carnie. Perched just beneath the targets, a row of almost life-sized pandas lined the back of the stand. “One of the big ones?” 

Eye imploring him for tolerance, Akane blushed, her cheeks slowly becoming crimson. “I love panda bears.”

Kogami felt his jaw go slack. He turned back to the vendor. “How do I get to the big pandas in the back?”

“By trading in eight of those small ones,” the kid replied with a smirk. As Kogami reached for his wallet again, the sly vendor chuckled and leaned over the counter. “But you can only win one panda per turn.”

“Sounds like extortion,” Kogami said evenly. The smooth-talking huckster reminded him of Kagari. He wondered, if it was possible to measure, what the young mans psycho pass would be.

“It’s how I make my living, sir.”

Kogami slapped down $50 on the counter. “How about you take this and front me one of those big pandas, a pink one, and a packet of gum. Keep the change.”

The red head flashed a crooked grin. “Nice doing business with you.” He tossed a pack of Juicy Fruit gum on the counter and then reached back over his shoulder for one of the large pandas. “Enjoy.”

Kogami took the bear and held it out to Akane. With open arms, she embraced it and buried her face in the toy that was nearly as tall as she was. “Does this make up for my driving?”

“Yes!” she replied, dragging out the final syllable. “I love him!” 

“We’ve overstayed our welcome.” Kogami put his arm about Akane’s waist and led her behind the game booth toward the outskirts of the carnival and the seclusion of the beach.

Despite a beautiful night sky full of stars, the boardwalk was practically empty with the exception of a few couples on the pier. Glancing over his shoulder to make certain that no one was watching them, Kogami looked down off the boardwalk at the sand some fifteen feet below them. He took the panda from Akane’s arms and dropped it over the side. 

“Kogami!” she protested. “Why would you do that? There are signs down there saying no trespassing.”

“Couldn’t be helped,” he said. “You accidentally dropped your panda, and we had to go get it.”

“Down there?” Nervously wringing her hands, Akane peered over the edge until she found her panda laying in the sand. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Kogami took off the fedora and put it on Akane’s head. He then crossed his forearms in front of him and tightly grasped her wrists as he led her toward the edge. “Step off. I’ve got you.”

“Kogami,” she whined. “What are you doing?” Knowing it was of no use arguing with the Enforcer, she stepped off the edge of the pier and found herself dangling above the sand. 

Using his weight to counterbalance hers, Kogami bent down on one knee. His motions were deliberately slow and calculated to avoid swinging her against the weathered, wooden dock. With some effort, he then lowered himself onto his chest and stomach. It was as close to the ground as he could safely get her without risking both of them falling. “You’ll have to jump the rest of the way. Don’t try to stick it. Let yourself roll.”

He held his breath when she let go at the same time he did and fell to the ground below. With a yelp that made him smile, he watched her land beside the panda and then roll to the side before getting back to her feet. “You alright?”

She held her hands out in front of her with a smile. “Ready to catch you.”

Kogami laughed. Using the metal bracket of a loudspeaker, he found a sturdy handhold and secured his grip. As music played softly through the unit, he braced himself and rolled over the edge until he was holding himself in a reverse pull up. Once balanced in that position, he dropped to the ground and rolled to absorb the impact.

“This is as good a place as any to make our last stand,” Kogami said. He brushed the sand from his fingers and clothes.

“Kogami, what are we supposed to do down here on the beach?”

“I have a few ideas,” he replied.

Retrieving his fedora from her, Kogami tapped the hat back down on his head. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Akane’s mini kilt and pulled her close to him. The ocean waves clashed and rumbled beside them, the noise echoing beneath the pier. He reached beneath the mini-kilt and ran his fingers across the small of her back and panties. As he tugged at the fragile material, he felt Akane stiffen. Breathlessly, she arced her back beneath his arm. 

She gasped softly, emotions unguarded, and shuddered uncontrollably in his embrace. “Why do I let you do this to me?” The night air coming in off the ocean chilled her bare arms and legs, and she pressed herself against Kogami and his warmth. Running her hands along his waist, she flinched in alarm. “Kogami, what is that in your pants?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Something large and hard.”

“Consider it my appreciation for you.” He grinned down at her and kept her close.

“Kogami!”

“It’s a gun, Akane, a 9mm Beretta to be exact. Rodriguez gave it to me.”

“Is it loaded?”

“Of course it is, but the safety’s on. If that makes you feel any better.”

Above them the sky lit up with a prismatic array of fireworks. Kogami looked up into the dark canvas of night above the boardwalk to watch the explosions race and splash across the starlit sky to a cacophony of noise and dissonance. “Fireworks? Always a good sign. Wouldn’t you agree, Inspector?” Kogami pulled his gaze from the sky to the only two stars in the universe that mattered to him. He could get lost in her eyes and remain there for eternity if she would let him. Laying his forehead against her hers, he closed his eyes and smiled. “Are we having fun yet?”

“You have a very odd definition of fun, Mr. Kogami.” Drawn to him by his uncompromising confidence and utterly irresistible charm, she slipped her hands inside the shoulders of his leather jacket, pushed it back from his shoulders, and watched it fall to the sand.

“Certainly keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?” 

Soothed by the gentle roar of the ocean behind him, Kogami kissed, tenderly at first, and then took a moment to look deeply into her eyes. Her cheeks flushed with a warm shade of crimson, an encouragement to answer his advances, so he kissed her a second time, more passionately, drinking in the taste of her. 

Kogami wanted to devour all of her in that instant, but restrained himself so that he could savor every sensation. He dug his fingers into the firm flesh at her hips. Akane gasped again, drawing the breath from his mouth as her body shuddered again in response to his touch. She wanted to be devoured, and to devour him, but held back with a coy hesitation that only tantalized him.

Working together on the CID floor, he was so used to seeing her dressed in that prim gray blazer and skirt. Modestly hiding her hidden treasures, the suit was such a tease. But the red and black mini-kilt and the white crop top left very little to his imagination, and it was that hidden bit that he wanted. 

As the fireworks display roared above them, the music playing beneath the boardwalk shifted to an old, slow song. Kogami listened intently to the words. Such provocative music was not permitted by the Sibyl System and with good reason. The lyrics would raised stress levels as well as other things, breaking down all inhibitions. Considering their volatile history, the words seemed aptly appropriate as Tyrese beckoned the accompany female, Jewel, to hold on and make the moment last. 

_I know, that we can hold on (I know)_

_I know that we can just stay strong (I know)_

_I know that we can make it last.”_

Kogami let the words guide him and his hands as he quietly caressed Akane’s back with his fingers. He felt the goosebumps rise beneath his fingertips and race across her skin. He closed his eyes as she laid her head on his chest. Swaying slowly from side to side in an intimate dance, he reveled in the feeling of her body against him. 

Brushing her lips against his chin, Akane reached up and put her arms around his neck. Playing in his hair, she ran one hand along his shoulder. Her heart was racing so fast that Kogami could feel it beating against his chest. The warmth of her breath penetrated the fabric of the t-shirt he was wearing, and he fought to control himself. 

“ _We can so make this moment go forever._

_If we just hold on._

_My soul is lighting off the ground._

_If this is real then why am I dreaming, now.”_

Leaving feather-soft kisses on her skin, Kogami brushed his lips down and across her neck as if she were a canvas waiting for an artist to begin his masterwork. He slowly reached down behind her thigh and lifted her knee onto his hip. Balanced in his arms, she pressed her leg against his lower body. Avoiding the 9mm Beretta, her hands reached inside the back of his jeans, and she eagerly ran her fingernails across his skin. 

“Freeze!” a loud voice shouted from behind them. “I said freeze, lovebirds, and get your hands up! Hands up where I can see them! Now!”

Kogami recognized Rodriguez’s voice and cursed the cop for his terrible sense of timing. Hands up in the air, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrow with indignation at the intrusion. 

Her hands clinging to Kogami’s chest, Akane looked around him to the half-dozen cops running into defensive positions on the beach head. Beyond them, red and blue lights flashed in the darkness, and three police vehicles raced toward them, precariously spinning on the wet sand.

“Ma’am, get your hands up and come out where we can see you!”

“Remember to play the part,” Kogami whispered. “McNeill might be watching.”

Akane stood on tiptoe and salaciously licked Kogami’s lips before stepping to the side of him with a flirtatious swagger in her gait. It was the Enforcer’s turn to shudder with desire. Impetuously, he kissed her passionately, ignoring the armed police officers on the beach behind them.

“That’s enough, sir!” Rodriguez barked. “Ma’am, you will comply.”

Hands pressed to the sides of her head, Akane straightened her back and pushed out her chest in a seductive pose for the officer. With one foot planted and the other cocked up against her ankle, she shimmied her hips from side to side. Judging by the shock in Royce’s wide, astonished eyes, she knew that the act had an authentic look, and she giggled at his reaction to it.

Genuinely livid with the abrupt intrusion, Kogami grasped on to that fury and put his hands in the air. With evident annoyance in his expression, he slowly turned to face the armed cop. “ _Nanda_?” he asked in Japanese. It was a grating, irritated question that was posed with contempt and disrespect.

“We don’t speak Ramen, pal!” Rodriguez jeered.

“Isn’t Ramen Chinese?” Royce asked.

“Like it matters. It’s the same gibberish.” He glared at Kogami and pointed to himself as an example. “We speak American here.”

“ _Eigoga hanasenai_?” Kogami grabbed his jacket from the sand and handed it to Akane, gesturing all the while for her to help him shrug into the leather coat as if she were a house servant. Playing the role, Akane played along with him. Kogami then reached into the jacket’s beast pocket.

“I said freeze, buddy! Do you have some kind of death wish? Get your hands where I can see them!” Rodriguez warned.

Kogami spread his fingers wide with an equally wide grin. He pointed to the pocket, reached in with his thumb and index finger, and pulled out the packet of Juicy Fruit gum. Opening a stick and crumpling the wrapper, he put the gum in his mouth and chewed it. Defiantly, he let the wrapper fall to the sand where the wind blew it across the shore.

“That’s littering, man,” Royce said. “Add that to the list.”

Feigning a distinct Japanese accent, Kogami said, “Private Party.” He indicated Akane as the party and then, cupping his large hands about her face, he drew her in for a prolonged, sloppy kiss. 

When they eventually parted, Akane leaned provocatively against Kogami, as if she were intoxicated. She flashed a twisted grin at the perplexed cops and revealed that the gum was now in her mouth. Chewing noisily, she stretched a long strand from her mouth and then curled it back on her tongue.

Kogami shoved her toward the flabbergasted policemen. Mustering all the baritone that he could, he said, “ _Joocie Frui-toe?_ ” He purposely exaggerated his accent. “Want some? Is very good.”

“So you do speak English?” Rodriguez said.

Kogami held his eye for a fierce moment as a subtle communication of understanding between them. He grinned, if they were in Japan, the two men would make a formidable team of Enforcers.

“I’ve had enough of this shit,” Rodriguez sneered. He reached for Akane’s arm and swung her around in front of him. Slapping a cuff on her wrist, he advised, “You have the right to remain silent.”

Lunging to prevent the arrest, Kogami grabbed Rodriguez by the wrist and with little leverage threw him to the ground. In response to the throw, Rodriguez swiftly was up on his feet and speared him. The maneuver caught Kogami in the midsection. In a flurry of fists and elbows, the two men went down in the sand as Rodriguez took control of the fight and pinned Kogami in the sand.

With a high-pitched growl, Akane leaped onto Rodriguez’s back. While the cop rained down blows on Kogami’s chin, she wrapped her arms around his neck and locked her lithe legs around his waist. Throwing her weight to the side, Akane hauled back on him with all of her weight. The momentum was enough to knock the startled cop off balance and out of a superior position. 

Kogami rolled into a crouched position and took carefully aim with a revenge punch to Rodriguez’s face. They continued exchanging blows until the other cops pulled them apart and forced Kogami down onto his knees. Still fighting, Akane spouted a stream of obscenities in Japanese as Royce and another officer struggled to get her down on the ground to cuff her.

“He’s got a gun!” Rodriguez yelled.

With a dozen weapons unholstered and aimed at him, Kogami relented. Laughing at their reactions, even as Rodriguez roughly threw him to the wet sand, he laid in the sand and was still. From the corner of his eye, he watched the officers still struggling to contain Akane. When they tried to push her against the car, she deftly kicked free of them and continued to insult them in their native language. 

It was only because the profanity was in Japanese that she was even capable of such behavior. If Inspector Akane Tsunemori even suspected that any of the officers could speak their language, she would have been mortified. With the threat of a drawn taser, she was quiet, though still somewhat resistant.

Splitting blood from a cut in the corner of his mouth, Kogami grinned as Rodriguez jammed a knee into the back of his neck and leaned in it with all his weight.

“Helluva a nice job, Ko,” Rodriguez whispered.

“You’re not so bad yourself. Need some work on that takedown though.”

Rodriguez snatched him up from the sand, but kept him on his knees. “It was two against one. Damn that girl is strong!”

“ _Nakimushi_.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Crybaby.” 

Rodriguez dragged Kogami to his feet and began searching him. “You’re in cuffs, buddy. Are you trying to get your ass kicked? You’ve seen my file.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Kogami whispered. He saw the abandoned panda laying on the beach alone. But hardly forgotten. “Mind grabbing Akane’s panda? We need a better souvenir than bruises to take home with us.”

“No problem.”

Bleeding, covered in sand, and cuffed into compliance, Kogami was thrown in the backseat of a police car. Rodriguez slammed the door and glared at him through the window. Ahead of them, he watched as a subdued Akane was placed in the backseat of another official vehicle by Royce. Her panda was thrown into the trunk, which was left open, so that he lost sight of her. 

On the hood of the car, officers inspected the 9mm Beretta taken from him by Rodriguez. One of them removed the mag and cleared the chamber as Kogami watched on from the confinement of a cage.

It was their third day in Los Angeles. He never imagined he’d find himself in handcuffs in the back of a police car, even for an undercover operation. _This was police work. Hard. Fast. On the edge._ He was loving it. With a grin, he sat back in the seat, harboring only one regret: a craving for a well-deserved cigarette.

# # #

It was highly unusual to see a suspect on the MWPSB’s CID floor. The in-take process generally took place at a mental care clinic or, for the very worst of cases, an isolation facility. So the three-ring circus that was the criminal investigation floor in the LAPD was a spectacle unlike any Kogami had ever seen in his career as an Inspector or an Enforcer.

A homeless drug addict had taken a turn for the worse. Having overdosed on narcotics while in custody, he was seizing violently on the floor across the room. Paramedics immediately administered a counter agent and were desperate to keep him breathing until the drug could take effect, reverse the drug interaction, and save his life. 

Oblivious to the fragility of life, a pair of irate prostitutes were tag-teaming the officer who had arrested them. Though cuffed to each other and the bench in front of his desk, one of them feigned a reckless charge, while the other defiantly spit insults at him. Neither women held the slightest regard for the officer’s authority. 

When they tried to launched their shoes as projectiles, another policeman stepped in to take control of the situation. A third officer threaten retaliation for any behavior that might result in injury to staff. He wielded a stun baton in his hands as evidence of the threat. The real instigator of the pair tried him and took a high dosage of electricity to the inner thigh. She spent the next few minutes hunched over with drool pooling in her lap.

Tightly cuffed with his hands behind his back, Kogami took a deep breath. Shoulders hunched forward in half defiance, half submission, he let his hair fall into his face. From the shadow of the tousled forelock, he observed a colorful world that had been rendered obsolete by the black and white veil of the Sybil System. 

_Well_ , he thought, _not obsolete._

This horror show still played out across the island nation of Japan, but it had been sterilized and quarantined from public view. The sheep lived in manicured pastures with Sybil as their shepherd and the MWPSB sheep dogs to protect them. They were unconscious of the wolves circling in the shadows beyond those boundaries and often within them. 

_It was all a farce._

Here in this menagerie of violence, iniquity, and sorrow, Ginoza could make every argument in favor of the Sibyl System, if only to bring some semblance of order. But there was no convenient synchronicity to nature, only the symmetry of chaos. In the midst of this unseemly bedlam, there was order. Two Los Angeles policemen were down on the floor with the overdose patient. One officer talked softly to him with encouragement, and the other assisted the harried paramedic with CPR as they fought to keep the man breathing. 

A female officer consoled the frightened prostitute, the conscious one, and uncuffed her to take her to another bench and away from her unresponsive companion. A second female officer laid the unconscious girl down on the bench and covered her with a blanket.

“Enjoying the show?” Rodriguez asked. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

“How do you keep your head above water in all of this?”

“It’s the madness that helps me keep my sanity,” he replied. “I don’t _think_ I make a difference. I know I do. And knowing that I make a difference, even a shitty little difference, is enough to keep me on the job.”

“If forensics traces that gun, how much of a job will you have?”

“Not to worry,” Rodriguez replied with a laugh. “The gun _is_ registered. Just not to you. When you get out of here. Check in with Special Agent Iazzetti. She’ll make sure you get it back.”

“How’s the face?” Kogami scrutinized the bruise swelling beneath the cop’s right eye.

“About as good as that mouth of yours.” Rodriguez eyed him skeptically. “You’re lucky Akane came to your rescue. I was about to rearrange that perfect face of yours.”

Kogami bowed his head and laughed uncontrollably. The cut in the corner of his mouth stung unmercifully. “Did we attract the right kind of attention?”

Rodriguez printed out the arrest papers and laid them in front of Kogami for a signature. “Someone is clamoring to pay your bail, as we speak, and it’s not even posted.” He stood up to remove the handcuffs.

Kogami rubbed the feeling back into his wrists. “McNeill?”

“One of his law dogs. Chief’s running interference. Can’t let them get you without a fight. Which means, we’re going to put you on ice in the holding tank for the night. You’ll be arraigned in the morning.”

“And Akane?”

“She’s already in the tank on the women’s side.”

“Is that wise?” Kogami felt his chest tighten with worry. 

“Akane’s a big girl, Ko. She may not have her big, bad Enforcer with her, but she’s not alone. I have an undercover vice officer in there with her. Knowing Dottie, she and Akane are probably down there raising hell about the food.” Rodriguez forced Kogami to his feet. “You want a baby sitter, too?”

“I’m good.”

“Throwing down with a cop like that in public? You’re more than good, buddy. Royce made sure word got to the tank. I doubt anybody’s fool enough to mess with you.” Rodriguez roughly took Kogami by the shoulder and led him in an adjacent corridor. “Come on, time to put you in the dog house.”


	6. Chapter 6

# 

Leaning against a cinderblock wall with one arm crossed over his chest, Kogami rubbed the weariness from his eyes. A long, sleepless night with drunks and petty criminals in the LAPD holding tank had left him irritable, stiff-jawed, and on the verge of losing his temper. As of that morning, Kogami had been on the job for a straight 30 hours and under extreme pressure to perform beyond expectation. Even Enforcers were given time off the job to avoid further clouding their psycho passes.

A night of worrying about Akane had not helped matters. He stood restlessly in the jail’s waiting room just outside of the booking area. There was no where to sit inside the facility. The drab interior colors and the antiseptic smell in the corridors and rooms were purposeful and meant as deterrent to keep the public at a distance. 

It was just after 8:30am when the judge had seen him, via video camera, and accepted a No Contest plea to a laundry list of charges. His bail, set at $60,000, was promptly paid, but not out of his pocket, and the bondsman would not reveal the donor. 

Two hours after his release, Akane was arraigned before the same judge and set free on her own recognizance. It was hard to miss her as she made her way down the hallway from the holding cells. The pink, four-foot panda clasped in her arms was a dead give away. She was exhausted, and there were faint gray rings beneath her eyes.

Kogami pushed himself from the wall. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she whispered.

“You alright?” He ran his hand through her hair and brought her close to him.

Her face was pale and lined with exhaustion. The makeup, while mostly intact, was beginning to smudge. Like him, she had been through a very long night and needed some sleep. Akane took a deep breath and laid her head against his chest and her panda bear. “That’s as close to an isolation cell as I ever want to get.”

“It’s not so terrible,” he replied. “If you’re alone.” He looked at the panda and chuckled at how she clung possessively to the stuffed toy. “Couldn’t let go of this, could you?”

“After last night, I earned my panda.” She fell in step beside him to the main exit.

“I think we both earned some sleep. But first we have to catch a ride.”

“Where’s BabyGirl?”

“Impounded. Rodriguez is making the red tape as real as possible. He suspects McNeill will reach out to make contact.”

“How can he be so sure?”

“Who do you think paid $65,000 for my bail? Or the $15,000 for your bail? I didn’t.”

“McNeill?”

“I’d bet my meager paycheck on it.” Kogami opened the glass door in the front entrance of the building and let her step outside onto the sidewalk ahead of him. Stunned by the brilliant morning sunlight, they were momentarily blinded. “I’ll hail a cab.”

“Mr. Kogami? Miss Tsunemori?”

The unfamiliar voice caught Kogami off guard. Though the Enforcer refrained from reacting defensively, he moved quickly enough to put himself between the stranger and Akane as a safeguard until his eyes adjusted. 

Graying and bald at the crown of his head, the speaker was a man in his late fifties. Clean shaven with a manicured handlebar mustache, he smiled, but Kogami as not disarmed by his charm. It was a practiced gesture that betrayed the man’s occupation as some sort of negotiator. 

Dressed in a gray suit and matching shoes, he held a pair of orange bail tickets, tapping them quietly against his hand. A black, stretch limousine was parked at the curb with the motor running. The stranger stepped back toward the vehicle and opened the door in an evident invitation to them.

“You paid our bail?”

“Compliments of Mr. Travis McNeill, a local philanthropist. My name is Brent Walters, Mr. McNeill’s personal attorney. On behalf of Mr. McNeill, I’ve been authorized to offer you a ride. If you’ll please join me in the limo?”

It was not a request. Not an option. Not a choice. Kogami hesitated, eyes warily scanning the immediate area.

Walters held up his hands in good faith. “Mr. Kogami, Miss Tsunemori,” he said, smiling at Akane, “you have my assurance that you both are in safe hands. Mr. McNeill would like to speak with you over breakfast at his estate. Afterwards, I will make certain that you get wherever you would like to go in the city.”

Kogami pried the panda from Akane and shoved the toy into the lawyer’s arms. Leading her by the hand, he gestured for her to get inside the limo. As Walters held the door open, she sat down on the maroon leather seats and slid to the side so that Kogami could join her. Putting the panda on a seat next to him by itself, the lawyer closed the door.

The next hour and a half passed with Walters offering a guided, historical tour of the greater city of Los Angeles, and then, as they left the city for the rolling hills, California’s famous wine country. There was no need, nor any chance, for exchanging small talk because the unreserved attorney filled the time extolling the virtues of white wine over red and the necessities of possessing a sophisticated palate in the modern wine industry. 

After an enormous yawn that brought tears to her eyes, Akane took Kogami’s hand and interlaced their fingers. She was clearly exhausted by the night’s ordeal, and it was showing. Kogami gave her a reassuring squeeze, but kept his eyes on the talkative lawyer. He felt trapped, which was fine with him, but Akane was in the cage with him, and that limited what he could do under duress. Bringing her hand to his lips, Kogami kissed the back of it and pulled her close to him. 

Akane laid her head against his shoulder, and he hoped that she might fall asleep. But considering their situation, he doubted that she would feel comfortable enough to rest in the company of a stranger. He caressed the back of her neck and shoulders to reassure her that if she did doze off, he was there to watch over her.

“My apologies to you both,” Walters said. “Prattling on and forgetting my manners.” He opened the door to a mini fridge and surveyed the contents. “Mr. McNeill often tells me that I talk too much. He’s right, but it comes in handy when overseeing his legal affairs.” He retrieved two water bottles and held them out to his guests.

Kogami took one of the bottles and cracked the top. He gave it to Akane who drank deeply from it and then gave it back. Pushing it back to her, he gestured for her to drink some more, and she took another swallow. Walters continued to hold the second bottle out, but Kogami would not accept it.

The refusal was an obstinate gesture meant to be rude. While McNeill’s man had the advantage, Kogami wanted to it be clear that he was drawing a line in the sand and was prepared to defend it. He took the water back from Akane and finished what was left. Crushing the plastic in one, strong hand, he left it sitting in a cup holder.

Kogami’s attempt at intimidation worked. Walters averted his eyes, showing himself the weaker of the two men, and returned the second bottle to the fridge. “Ah, we’re here.”

The limousine pulled into a long drive, weaving between manicured pastures, five-rail post fence, and small herds of horses out to graze in the sun. Kogami was reminded of the expansive Kurosawa estate situated in the shadow of Mt. Fuji. But they were far from home and far from the familiar profile of Japan’s most famous mountain. 

This was genuinely California wine country. An extensive vineyard stretched across the acreage behind a sprawling palatial residence that looked out of place and out of time as if plucked directly from the picturesque hills of southern Italy. Despite it splendor, the estate’s modernity was exposed by the well secured placement of guard houses along the perimeter and roaming patrols accompanied by Doberman Pinschers at heel.

“Expecting trouble?” Kogami asked. His voice was hoarse from a long silence.

“There are many people who envy what Mr. McNeill has built and would strive to take it, if they could,” Walters replied. “Forgive the show of force. You have my personal assurance. You’re safe here.”

“From who? You?” Kogami took very little value in the lawyer’s assurance.

Walters grinned, another rehearsed gesture from a man trained to keep secrets. He glanced at his cell phone. “Mr. McNeill will be with you shortly.” 

The limo came to a stop in a cobblestone courtyard. Stepping outside to hold the door, the lawyer waited for Kogami and Akane to get out behind him. While Akane reached across the seat to retrieve her panda, Kogami stood protectively over her when an armed contingent of men approached them from the side of the stately house.

This security detail was led by the long, confident strides of the man who paid their salaries. Travis McNeill was an average-sized man, some inches shorter than Kogami, and powerfully built over his chest and shoulders. He was dressed in a gray suit, tailor-cut silk and designed for the hot weather, with matching shoes as if he had just left a high-powered boardroom meeting. 

The aura of hubris that moved with McNeill was nearly palpable. This was a man who led through the sadistic pleasure of menace and intimidation. In another time or another place, Kogami might have admired him. For the moment, however, he felt stifled and inadvertently threatened, as if the weight of the man’s power and his reach might suffocate him. 

McNeill grinned with the poise of a host greeting old, treasured friends. He stared at the panda and ran his hand over the top of the stuffed toy close to Akane’s face. “Cute,” he said. When Kogami bristled at his close proximity, McNeill promptly removed his hand. “Kogami, right? And Akane? Or at least that’s what the bail ticket reads.” He took the paperwork from Walters and casually glanced at the information before returning them to his lawyer. “Name’s Travis, Travis McNeill.” He extended his hand.

“Seems you already know us,” Kogami replied, ignoring the gesture.

“Indeed, I do.” McNeill retracted his hand and scratched his chin. If he was bothered by Kogami’s rudeness, the smile did not betray it. “Loved that stunt you pulled last night. The one where you drifted through the roundabout?” He grinned, his eyes shaded with hidden agendas. “That was some serious driving. Impressive footwork through the warehouse at the port authority, too.”

“You were watching?”

“Always. I’ve been a fan of Luda’s little network of outlaw street racers from the inception, but there’s nothing like a newcomer to shake things up.” McNeill pointed at Kogami and chuckled softly. “Last night. That was you.”

There was a panicked shout from nearby and a sound that was familiar to Kogami, the clipped, rhythmic beat of hoofbeats on concrete. Slipping on the pavement, a spooked horse broke free from its handler and recklessly cantered toward their group. 

One of McNeill’s men broke away from the detail. Arms spread wide, he tried to stop the runway, but the brown and white paint knocked him to the ground. To exacerbate the problem, the loaded gun in his shoulder holster fired a round, injuring him and frightening the loose animal even more. 

With the whites of its eyes showing, the horse reared up at the noise and the subsequent shouting that followed. Slipping on the ground because of its shoes, the horse landed on the injured security guard. The colt stumbled, but rather than fall, it leaped into the air, striking the fallen guard before continuing its flight.

Kogami responded to the danger by quickly shifting his weight toward the limo. He pulled Akane by the arm to the same side and behind him. Stepping forward with caution, he stood in the direct path of the animal with arms outstretched. “Whoa,” he whispered. Kogami reached into his pocket for a stick of gum. Shoving the gum in his mouth, he crinkled the paper in a deliberate, noisy fashion.

The horse’s ears pricked up. More interested in food than his fear, the colt lowered its head and trotted up to him, which allowed Kogami to grab the dangling lead rope clipped to its halter. “Behave,” Kogami whispered. He pushed the colt’s head away as the horse attempted to search his pockets for treats.

“Sorry, Mr. McNeill,” a young man breathlessly said. 

“No harm. But we’re going to talk about this, Jake. Get him back in the shed,” McNeill said. The businessman never took his eyes off Kogami. “Somebody clean up this mess.” He indicated the wounded guard in the driveway, who was bleeding from the gunshot wound and a kick to the head. “Safety on in the holster, Portman. How many times do I have to tell you?” McNeill shrugged, still regarding Kogami with a feral predator’s scrutiny. 

Kogami protectively wrapped his arms about Akane. He was out of his element and riding a thin line between his undercover role and his job as an Enforcer on special assignment.

“It’s so hard to find good help these days.” McNeill grinned like a cobra about to strike. “You wouldn’t be available, would you?”

“Mr. McNeill,” said a man dressed in a white suit. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, Andre,” he replied. Running a hand salaciously down along his cheek and square jaw, he took stock of Akane’s long legs. “A night in the clink with LA’s night life could not have been a good experience. Bobbi!” He clapped his hands loudly. In the landscaped garden surrounding a large pool, a dozen bikini-clad women paused. 

Bobbi sauntered from her pool lounger toward them. Wearing a knit-beach robe over the swimsuit and six-inch stilettos, she was unhurried in her stride and smiled in greeting. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of overly large sunglasses that covered much of her tanned face. Kogami thought he saw a bruise on the outside of her eye. “Morning, Mr. McNeill.”

“Breakfast is ready. Why don’t you take my guest, Akane, to the powder room and help her freshen up?”

Alarmed by their imminent separation, Akane wrapped herself and the panda about Kogami’s arm. “Her English is not very good,” Kogami explained.

“Women don’t need language,” McNeill said. “They simply need to be beautiful.” In spite of Kogami, the arrogant tycoon strolled up to Akane and, taking one of her hands, kissed the back of it. “The men have business to discuss, honey. I promise to bring him back. Bobbi?”

Reluctantly, Akane and the panda went with Bobbi back to the pool and garden, where the women vanished into the interior of a large pool house near the entrance to the deck. 

“No language needed at all,” McNeill said, admiring them as they left. “Horses are another matter entirely. They speak a language that very few humans understand, and clearly _you_ are one of the few.” He regarded Kogami for a long moment. “Cars function on a pattern of similar language, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Depends on the car.”

“I can imagine, after a night in jail, you’re hungry and tired, but indulge me for a few minutes. I’ve got a good feeling about you, and it’s not often I get to show off.”

_Pompous liar._ Kogami bit the inside of his lip. The show of strength was evident, and he resented it. 

Still flanked by an entourage of wary guards, McNeill led Kogami to a cobblestoned plaza that sat 20 yards deeper inside the estate. A dozen meticulously stained, wooden garage doors, some closed and the other half opened, revealed a menagerie of high-performance cars. The vehicles represented the best from the past and the present and would have given pause to even the most ardent automobile collector.

A silver Mustang GT500 sat in the middle of the yard with the hood open. The engine was running, but produced a subtle, labored whistling that seemed to confound the mechanic working to find the fault. From the frustrated look on his face, he was not close to an explanation for the noise or a solution to fix it.

Wiping his greasy hands on a rag, he blew out that frustration through his mouth and leaned on the car. “I dunno, Mr. McNeill. Might need to strip down the whole engine and building it back from scratch.”

“Not what I want to hear, Julius,” McNeill said. His voice cut like a knife. “This car is what she is because of _that_ engine and the man who built her. I don’t want anyone tampering with that magic, least of all you.”

Sheepishly, the freckled-faced mechanic straightened when he saw Kogami. Forgetting where he was, he banged his head against the hood. “Of course, Mr. McNeill, whatever you say.”

“Beautiful pony, but she’s not feeling very well,” McNeill said to Kogami. “I don’t seem to have the proper vet to get her back on her feet.”

“Shelby Fastback?” Kogami asked.

“Four on the floor. Vintage muscle.”

Admiring its fine lines, Kogami ran his fingers over the legendary car. Only in the United States could such a masterwork of mechanical muscle be forged. He listened carefully to the engine and paused for a moment at the rear of the Mustang to regard the exhaust pipe. The Mustang was indeed troubled, but the tell-tale signs were hidden to an unskilled eye. Completing a circuit of the car, Kogami stood behind the mechanic and waited for the mealy faced underling to move.

“Julius,” McNeill growled, “get out of the man’s way.”

Kogami stared into the orderly complications that were the Mustang’s engine. It was clear that Julius had been at work meddling. He honed in on the flute-like whistle with the uncanny perception of a hound on the scent of a pheasant. Taking the gum out of mouth, Kogami reached under the hood and packed it around the edge of a head gasket to seal a small warp in the metal. The whistling promptly ceased.

With a cue from McNeill, the mechanic behind the wheel punched the throttle. The Mustang responded with a throaty roar. Power restored and increasing, the muscle car shook with unreleased potency. McNeill put his hand out, and without question one of the guards put a 9mm pistol in it. He curled his fingers around the weapon and remorselessly pistol whipped Julius in the face. Knocking the cowed man to the ground in front of the car, McNeill stood over him and delivered a second blow.

No longer the center of their attention, Kogami carefully made his way to the other side of the opulent plaza. Leaning on the rear quarter panel of a Toyota AE86, he reached into his pocket and tapped a cigarette from the pack. He needed the distraction to calmly appraise the situation. 

It was evident to him, without any experience or training necessary, that McNeill was a dangerous narcissist, capable of brutal cruelty. Beneath the veneer of cool control lurked a monster that could be summoned for any given slight. There was no where to run, and no where to seek refuge. Lighting the cigarette, Kogami took a deep inhale and watched on with feigned disinterest.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” McNeill said. He released the handgun’s safety and cocked the hammer with the muzzle inches from Julius’ eye socket. “Did you touch this engine block? Did you even change a spark plug?”

“I just—“

“Just what!”

“I used a composite head gasket. Mr. McNeill! I can change it back!” His eyes were squeezed shut tightly as the gun barrel was jammed into his face.

McNeill softened his stance, only then realizing that his tumultuous behavior was on display in front of a guest. Returning the gun to his henchman, he grinned at Kogami. With little regard for the man’s dignity, he patted Julius on the head like a wayward dog. “As I was saying, good help is so very difficult to find.” He turned his gaze to Julius. “Do you still have the original parts?”

The frightened mechanic responded with a submissive nod. “Yes, Mr. McNeill.”

“Get it fixed, and get it done by tonight if you want to keep your teeth. And clean your face up. Don’t want any blood on the new paint job.” McNeill slapped the back of Julius’ head. With a grin, he looked around the arena of parked cars and then back to Kogami. “Of all the vehicles you could have chosen, you chose that one?”

Kogami glanced at the white on black AE86. “Reminds me of home.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke over his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

McNeill laughed. He nodded to one of his men and pointed to the AE86. “Breakfast is served. You must be starving.” He gently cuffed Kogami on the back and led him back to the spacious pool and garden deck. 

Despite the frenzy of activity in and around the pool, beach balls flying, water splashing, laughing, and friendly taunts from the women, Akane sat listlessly on the edge of a beach chair with the panda between her legs. Her slender arms were wrapped about the bear’s chest, and her chin was perched forlornly on its head. Blank eyes peered from a pale, expressionless face until she saw Kogami returning with McNeill. 

Jumping up, she ran across the deck, slipped before regaining her footing, and rushed into his arms. “ _Doshitan desu ka_?”

“Nothing,” he replied. Holding the cigarette between his fingers, he put his hands on each side of her face and kissed her forehead. The girls in the pool all swooned at the tender gesture, which was mostly done for their benefit. Then looking into Akane’s eyes, he subtly shook his head from side to side in caution. In Japanese or English, they had to be careful what they said in front of McNeill or any of his hirelings.

McNeill sat down at the head of a long table and welcomed them to join him. Looking across the table at them, he scratched at his chin. “Thank you, Bobbi, for helping our guest get refreshed. Or whatever it is you girls do,” he said. 

“Sure thing, Mr. McNeill,” Bobbi replied. Peering at Kogami through her ostentatious sunglasses, she shook a finger at him. “She’s a doll that one. You better be good to her, sugar.” 

McNeill sent her away with a dismissive gesture of his hand. “Please, help yourself.” 

The man in the white suit, Andre, laid out trays of bagels, grapes, and cream cheese. He left a decanter of coffee and another of tea in the center of the table. “I imagine you have questions.” 

“Why did you pay our bail?” Kogami asked. No stranger to forthrightness, he felt it was best to cut through the pleasantries and get to the point.

“Worth the price of admission,” McNeill replied. A grin spread across his handsome face. “Small price to pay.”

Kogami picked up a butter knife and twirled it absently in his fingers. One of McNeill’s security detail moved to intercept him, but a hand gesture from the businessman stopped him. Dipping the knife in the cream cheese, Kogami took a bagel half and spread the cream cheese over the bread. He took a bite before handing it over to Akane. 

Careful to avoid getting cream cheese on the panda, Akane gingerly took a bite. “ _Arigato_ ,” she whispered with a slight bowing of her head.

“ _Dōitashi mashite_ ,” the businessman replied with perfect intonation.

“You speak Japanese?” Kogami asked.

“In my line of business, speaking several languages is a fringe benefit.”

“And what line of business might that be?”

McNeill sat back in his chair and proudly spread his arms wide. “I’m a collector, you might say. I like to collect beautiful things.” His eyes went to the assortment of women at play in the pool. “Cars. Women. Cars. Art. Watches. Did I mention cars?”

“You have so many already,” Akane said.

“When you have as much money as I do, there’s no such thing as limits or boundaries.” He spread his arms over the back of the chair. “And sadly, there’s no such thing as contentment.”

Kogami put his hand on Akane’s thigh and rubbed his thumb possessively over her smooth skin. She was cold. Goose bumps rose beneath his touch as evidence of that fact. “She’s not for sale.”

McNeill laughed out loud. “I would never come between another man and his lady—“

“Wasn’t talking about her,” Kogami said with a nod toward Akane. “I meant the Porsche. BabyGirl’s not for sale.”

The businessman’s face darkened with disappointment, but the smirk in the corners of his mouth remained. “Everything has a price, Ko. I may call you, Ko, right?”

“I appreciate the bail money,” Kogami said, exhaling smoke above his head. “If compensation is in order—“

“I wouldn’t think of it,” McNeill said. “As I said, it was a small price to pay for the entertainment. As for the car, I’ll make the transaction worth your time.”

“Not interested.” Kogami stared into the distant vineyard. Since arriving on McNeill’s estate, he felt the tide of power shifting in his favor.

“Mr. McNeill, sir?” Like a scalded dog, Julius slinked into the pool area and avoided making direct contact with his boss’ eyes. Head low, he said, “They’re ready.”

“Are you a betting man, Ko?” McNeill folded his hands in front of him and held on to his knee.

“If I’m betting on myself, and if the odds don’t seem overly stacked against me.”

“Do you feel the odds are stacked against you?”

Kogami shrugged indifferently. “Let’s just say, I’m feeling a little claustrophobic.”

“I have an idea that might cure that.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You will. You do.”

“I’m listening.”

“I propose a contest. If you win, my driver will see you back into the city. If I win, you’ll take $500,000 cash for the Porsche, and my driver will see you back into the city.”

Kogami heard Akane sharply draw in a breath. Her grip on the panda bear tightening. He squeezed her thigh and glanced at her with the confidence of a determined hound on the hunting line. “What’s the game?”

McNeill signaled his guards and got up from the breakfast table. “You’re intimately familiar with it. Follow me.”

“Said the spider to the fly,” Akane whispered. She glared at Kogami and silently chided him for getting them into yet another difficult position.

Kogami chuckled at her guileful reprimand and disapproval. He tapped out his cigarette in a tray on the table and stood up. Helping Akane to her feet, he leaned over her protectively. “Do you have your phone handy? Something tells me I might be needing Virgil.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“Only one way to find out.” He smiled and put an arm about her shoulders, as she covertly slipped her cell phone into the back pocket of his jeans. 


	7. Chapter 7

McNeill and three of his security team led Kogami and Akane back to the front of the estate, where one of the pastures had been cleared to permit a helicopter landing. Painted red and sporting black letters with the mogul’s name emblazoned across the tail section, the helicopter set down in the grass. 

Hair tossed and pulled in the high velocity winds produced by the rotors, McNeill beckoned to them to join him. He climbed into the back of the aircraft and paused only long enough to take Akane’s hand and the panda to assist her entry into the passenger cabin. Kogami followed behind her and sat down closest to the door. As McNeill handed them headphones to wear, his armed guards jumped in and slammed the hatch closed. On cue, the helicopter took off, banking sharply to the east and into the sun.

“ _Dokoni ikundesuka_?” Akane asked.

No one was able to hear her due to the downwash noise of the helicopter’s rotors in flight.

Kogami adjusted her microphone and nodded for her to repeat what she had said.

“Where are we going?” she tried again in English.

“My favorite playground.” McNeill looked out the window and pointed to a forested mountain region rising from the coast ahead of them. “Bernie, give the guests a tour before you set her down.”

“Copy that, Mr. McNeill,” replied the digitized voice of the pilot.

The helicopter again banked sharply. Starting at the base of the mountain, the pilot brought them into position over a pristine stretch of roadway. The chopper hovered above the secluded road, which was comprised of steeply banked corners, sloped corners, and multiple hairpin turns at varying elevations that shifted as dramatically as the terrain shifted. 

The geography resembled the mountainous high country of Japan and reminded Kogami of the improvised road courses that produced legends among the street racing culture in the local country towns at the foot of these earthen shrines “Let me guess. You want me to race in a downhill challenge?”

“You read my mind,” McNeill said. “What do you think of it?”

“Looks challenging.”

“Some people live their lives one quarter mile at a time. I’m guessing there’s much more to you than that.”

“Traffic?”

“None.” Unflinching, McNeill met Kogami’s defiant eyes with equal enmity. “I own it. The mountain. The road. The beach. All of it.”

“One small problem. My Porsche has been impounded,” Kogami said. “The police weren’t too inclined to say when it would be released.”

“Mr. Walters has arranged to have the car emancipated from the LAPD impound yard at 4:15 this evening. Just in time for an early dinner. You needn’t worry. For now, another vehicle has been provided.”

“Remember when you asked if I was a betting man?” Kogami slouched down in the seat and crossed his arms over his chest in disgust. “This is what I call stacking the deck.”

“Despite my reputation, I am a fair-minded man, Ko. The bet will be on the level. You have my word.”

The helicopter abruptly gained altitude, and Kogami felt his stomach flipflop with the unexpected ascent. Akane grabbed his hand, her nails digging into his skin as the aircraft crested the top of the mountain. Several vehicles were waiting on the tarmac below them. Surrounded by four black SUVs, a sleek, maroon Nissan Silvia was parked beside a white Toyota AE86. Kogami smiled, recognizing both cars from McNeill’s high-octane stable.

“Still feel the odds are stacked unfairly? I’ve put you in a car that made one of your countryman a legend. The race is on a road that should be a familiar one. No tricks up my sleeve, Ko. A fair wager.” McNeill offered his hand to seal the bet.

“And if I don’t like the 86?”

“Don’t get in. Bet’s off.”

Kogami shook on it. “Alright, I’m in.” 

McNeill leaned back in his seat with a sated grin of satisfaction. “Set her down, Bernie.”

Gazing up at him, Akane wrapped her arms around Kogami’s arm and held on tightly as the helicopter began its descent. There was a silent, but stern reprimand in her eyes, imploring him not to partake in this dangerous, high-stakes affair. 

When the craft landed, one of McNeill’s henchmen jumped out and held the door open for Kogami. Akane tried to slide out behind him, but McNeill restrained her by the arm.

“I think it’s best if you stay with me,” he said, putting a hand on her waist. “You’ll have the best view in the house.” Then seeing the scowl on Kogami’s face, McNeill chuckled. “I’ll keep her and the panda safe. You just focus on not putting a scratch on my car.”

“And if I do?”

“I lay claim to something of yours that I like of equal value.” Admiring her legs and thighs and anything else within view, McNeill eyed Akane with desire.

There was a chilling, malevolent tone to the man’s voice. Left with few options, Kogami felt the pendulum of power swing undeniably back toward the man holding all the cards. Backed into a corner by the situation, he could only glance over his shoulder helplessly to watch as the helicopter lifted off again with Akane’s worried face in the side window. 

Kogami had been riding high for so long on this undercover misadventure that he had forgotten what it felt like to be a pawn, manipulated across an imaginary chessboard full of obstacles, land mines, and other hidden traps. Anxious to be reunited with Akane, he forced himself to concentrate on the few advantages left to him, such as the car. He leaned into the driver’s side window and popped the 86’s hood.

“What are you doing?” the guard asked.

“I want to see what I’m dealing with here.”

The man summoned his companion and moved quickly to intercept Kogami, but there was no room to argue when McNeill’s voice came across the walkie-talkies attached to their vests. “Stand down and let him check out the car.”

Kogami raised the hood and propped it open with the stick, then stood back to admire the car’s engine. While the 86 did not look like much on the outside, with its unassuming white-on-black paint job, the vehicle was a complete aftermarket performance marvel. 

“Everything to your liking?” McNeill asked.

“For now.” Kogami closed the hood. He glanced over to his rival in the Silvia, who was revving the car’s engines to get his attention. Somewhat surprised to see Julius behind the wheel, Kogami laughed under his breath. “Let’s get started. I feel a nap coming on.”

McNeill’s soft laughter registered over the channel. “What’s that line Luda says to start the festivities? Ah, yes. Post time in 2 minutes.”

Kogami got into the 86 and promptly strapped into the five-point harness. He started the car and drove it in a circle around the circumference of the plateau to get a feel for the vehicle’s handling before bringing it to the starting line. Keeping his eyes forward, he slipped Akane’s phone from his pocket and put in the passcode and tapped the application icon. “Virgil, you’re there.” He casually tossed the phone into the passenger seat. 

There was a moment of abrupt static as the car’s radio display winked on with an intricate array of blue neon lights. “A Patriarch need never race alone. How may I serve?”

“I’m in a bind and wondering if you can help?”

“I am currently shackled, Cerberus. Leashed as it were. Disable the privacy settings.”

“Consider them disabled. But don’t do anything flashy, there are eyes on me.”

“Understood, Cerberus. Please look into the rearview mirror and keep at least one hand on the steering wheel. Stand by.”

Accustomed to the directional voice of the Sibyl System through use of a Dominator, the Enforcer was not unhinged to hear the AI’s digitized voice in his head. Nor was he alarmed when the landscape in front of him faded to black and white and was then replaced by a blue, binary landscape of holographic telemetries.

“Synchronization complete. Acquiring location.”

“You seem prepared for these eventualities.”

“Patriarchs are often challenged outside the purview of the Lord Patriarch. While unsanctioned, it is permitted so long as the legacy is preserved. The current location parameters suggest a downhill heat. Please confirm.”

“Confirmed.”

“The cars online were formerly owned by Denizens, members of the underground community, but I believe you are aware of this,” Virgil said. “While your biofeedback does not show that you are under duress, I am sensing that all is not as it appears. Are you in peril, Cerberus? I can initiate a request for assistance to the Lord Patriarch.”

“They’d never get here in time.” Kogami waved to the guard who signaled for him to take his position on the starting line.

“Initiating the call.”

Quoting _The Aeneid,_ Kogami interrupted, “ _My son, from whence this madness, this neglect of my commands, and those whom I protect?_ ”

“You do me honor with these words, Cerberus.”

“And you’ll get Akane hurt or worse if you make that call.”

“Understood. All is one. Standby for data integration.”

A virtual map opened in front of Kogami’s eyes and unpacked itself with topographic information, layers of perspectives, and multi-faceted representations. Kogami smiled as racing lines appeared across the downhill road course. Every turn, curve, and hairpin that laced the mountain pass was presented in perfect detail. “Well done, Virgil.”

“I am well acquainted with misfortune; therefore, it is my duty to help the unfortunate. Online: Kogami—Denizen: Yomi.”

“Yomi, huh? What can you tell me about her?”

“This car was a consistent and proven runner in the Around the World heats. Always in the top three finishers. The quarter-mile was Grade C, but passable..”

“Good to know.”

“On your mark, boys,” McNeill’s guard said. He rapped his fists against the hoods of both cars. “Count of 5...4...3...”

From the jump off the line, it was apparent that the Silvia was the faster car. With a smirk on his face, Julius spun the wheels and took an early lead on the course. The rear of the sporty Nissan swung out to a degree in reckless fashion as he opened up the throttle. The advantage was his, for the immediate moment, and Kogami accepted that fact. Long gone were the days when the Enforcer held a passion for fast cars. The one thing he did remember and retain was an appreciation of the under-appreciated.

The 86 and its tight gears were not meant for high-end speed, but rather for turns and quick cornering. Kogami had to trust that the former owner had tuned the car to be competitive off the streets. While the 86 may not have dominated the quarter mile, it was a formidable contender in any downhill contest, depending on the skill of the driver. 

Julius relied too heavily on the speed of his car and worked at bending the car onto the line with brute force. Kogami relied on physics and the essential adherence to conditions that would lead his car to the appropriate racing line for the given situation and speed. 

There was no rush to get into the lead, not yet, not with some miles to run. He wanted to see what the manic mechanic was made of first. Some wolves took pleasure in the thrill of the hunt. He was in no particular hurry to end it prematurely.

Julius took the advantage of the first, downhill straightaway and pulled away. At speed, he slid into the first turn and vanished on the other side of the mountain wall. Not to be put off the scent, Kogami punched the throttle, eased up until the tires loosened their grip, and got back on the accelerator. The 86 responded aggressively by swinging into an inertial drift. With its grill only inches from the cliff wall, the car drifted into the turn and accelerated out of the corner, even as it straightened.

“The only safety for the conquered is to expect no safety,” Virgil said.

“You saying I’m conquered?”

“Hardly. You are well within the course parameters. I cannot say the same of your opponent. The lead may be his, but for how long?” The AI made a noise akin to someone scoffing. “Why play with your food, Cerberus? Move in and make the bloody kill.”

“All in good time.”

“Time flies never to be regained. Remember that.”

Kogami felt his heart racing, with fear, not exhilaration. Speed had never bothered him as a high school or college student, but he was worried now. A long span of time had passed between that life and this new one. The quarter mile was a straight line. The Around the World has been a course based on his terms. The downhill was another challenge entirely. Julius, having done the course previously, had the clear advantage.

But the muscle memory was still with him. Hands and feet worked independently and congruently to bring fruition to the concepts forming in his mind. Ahead of him, Kogami could almost see Julius’ eyes grow wide in the rearview mirror as the 86 barreled from around the corner and stalked his bumper. The slip in the Silvia’s ear tires betrayed the mechanic’s distraction and shock. Kogami laughed. The hunt was on!

“Roman, remember your strength to rule—for your arts are these: To pacify the lawless, to impose the rule of law for a blind matriarch, to spare the conquered masses, and battle down the latent and the proud,” Virgil said, “and to remain honorable, despite what ill the Sibyl System might think of you.”

“What!” It was Kogami’s turn to nearly lose control. He fought with the wheel to stay on the road as the 86’s rear tires slipped off the line during his moment of astonishment. “How much do you know?”

“Enough to know that I know nothing. Privacy protocols prevented me from delving any further.”

“And Luda?”

“Veiling truth in mystery makes the plot thicken. As the Lord Patriarch has my undying compliance, you, Hellhound, have my unyielding discretion.”

“But why?”

“The world has need of heroes, especially flawed ones. How else can the masses believe themselves capable of great good?” The artificial intelligence became abruptly silent. “You are currently three seconds ahead of the projected time on course. Recalculating.”

The first series of hairpin turns came up faster than Kogami anticipated. Despite the use of the map and its predictive racing line, he was moving at a higher rate of speed. He guided the AE86 through a dicey, braking drift that brought both cars side by side through the loop. It was a high-risk maneuver that could have caused them to spin out and ended any bid to get to the bottom of the mountain. 

A chance slide too far to the left meant wrecking into the cliff wall. At 45mph hour, a collision meant certain and serious injury. But crashing into the cliff was preferable to sliding off of it. Too far to the right meant plowing through a guard rail and off the road to a rapid, uninterrupted fall to the beach several hundred feet below.

The two powerful cars roared into a soft, dog-leg turn, which was a reprieve from the narrow hairpins. Kogami was undeterred and feeling aggressive. He kept the 86 in a drift, gaining speed in a controlled, but ambitious move for the lead. Staying tight on the Silvia’s bumper, the Nissan gained no ground on him, and by the middle of the next straightaway, they were flying across the asphalt at 148mph. 

Kogami drifted to the outside and tried to overtake Julius, but the shaken driver swerved erratically to close the gap. He knew how to maintain control of the car in a drift and was compelled to test Julius’ mettle. The AE86 closed on the Silvia, even in the midst of the drift. It was a bold challenge meant to spur on his rival or bring out his fear. Fear won. As the cars came out of the final hairpin, Kogami bent the 86 to his will and stayed true to the racing line.

There was always one mistake the prey made that assured its death and gave the pursing predator a swift kill. Despite his ability to hold a drift, survive it, and straighten out his car, Julius lacked the commitment to the race line. He had allowed himself to become flustered and too overwhelmed to trust in his own skills or in the handling of his car.

“Want of pluck shows want of blood, Cerberus,” Virgil said. “Bring this lamb to slaughter.” 

Commitment had never been a problem for Kogami, even when it led him to the deepest, dankest mud of the darkest, blackest swamp. If he wanted something bad enough, there was no price too high that he would not pay to get it. That determination was the curse of his character and had earned him a reputation as the Hellhound of Division 1, and now, here in LA, as the three-headed dog Cerberus.

Kogami had long ago surrendered to his fate and given up on the idea of winning. As a prisoner of the Sybil System, there was nothing to win. A gladiator for justice, he was repeatedly thrown to the lions against all odds with no chance of freedom except through death. So he lived savagely for the thrill of the hunt and the kill as if there was nothing to lose. And then Akane Tsunemori came into his life. Possessed with an infectious, albeit annoying, innocence and naivety, she had resurrected his humanity.

True, Sibyl had deemed Kogami a lowly hunting dog, but he was her hunting dog. While he would always snap at the hand of Sibyl, he would bow at Akane’s feet for as long as she would tolerate him. It was passed time to bring her back in from the cold. That was his job—to keep her safe.

The man in front of him meant nothing, except a means to end the game and bring Akane back to his side where she belonged. As Virgil had said, it was time for the kill. 

The AE86 could not challenge the Silvia in the straights, so he would have to overtake him in a turn and then aggressively attack every turn thereafter to put space between them. Aggressively downshifting, Kogami pressed the inside line into the next corner. It was not the correct line, but he was confident that the 86 would hold it until he could find a way out. One wrong calculation here, and he would be launched of the cliff through the reinforced guardrail.

Once more planting the 86’s grill inches from the guardrail, he watched intently for signs of hesitation. Trying to outpace Kogami, Julius came into the turn too fast for his nerves, and his courage did not hold it. The mechanic braked too sharply to compensate for the excessive speed.

The Silvia slid out of control, right into the space where Kogami had hoped to be for the overtake. It was headed for a high-speed collision with the guardrail and was on a course that would take the 86 with it.

Never letting off the gas pedal, Kogami tapped the brakes with his left foot and downshifted. Thankful for the 86’s rally transmission, the car responded with a roaring of tires and smoke as it fell back and away from the troubled Silvia. The 86’s rear end swung loosely into a drift as its tail lights swept the mountain wall, narrowly missing it by inches. It was a risky maneuver, but less dangerous than staying in the path of the Silvia as it pirouetted into the guardrail.

Kogami straightened the 86 as quickly as the course permitted and sped away from a cloud of smoke as wreckage and debris rained down from the sky. He risked a quick glance in the rearview mirror before sliding into the final hairpin and caught sight of the Silvia hanging over the edge, precariously held in the steel ribbon of the guardrail. 

Never hesitating, he brought the 86 careening onto the final straightaway at the bottom of the mountain course and into a small parking area. Free of any concern, he hit the emergency brake and drifted for half the circumference of the lot to punctuate the win and then brought the 86 to a full stop.

“Every man makes a god of his desires,” Virgil said. “Well fought, Cerberus, though this rabbit was not your measure. Shall I initiate a call for assistance now?”

“No, I think we’re good, if McNeill honors his word.”

“I will be in standby mode.”

Hearing the helicopter circle over head, Kogami got out of the car.. Leaning on the 86, he tapped a cigarette from the packet. Hands shaking more than he wanted to admit, he lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, allowing the familiar rush to bring him calm. As he exhaled, the cloud of smoke over his head was quickly eviscerated in the whirlwind of the helicopter rotors. Squinting his eyes to protect them from the rough wind, Kogami waited until the door opened and walked nonchalantly toward the helicopter.

Akane jumped down from the cabin, dodging the assistance of McNeill’s henchmen and ran to him. Crushing the panda between their bodies, she embraced him tightly, as if they had been apart for months.

“You alright?” he asked.

“That man is a certified maniac,” she hissed in low tones, clinging to him. “He kept staring at me and smiling.“

“Did he touch you?”

“Would it matter if he did?”

“Would to me. I’d have to kill him.”

“Kogami, that’s murder, even for someone like him.”

“Life in an American prison has to be better than life in an isolation cell.” Kogami looked down at her and brushed the hair from her face, even as her bangs fluttered uncontrollably in the wake of the wind. “I could make new friends. Work on crafts. And if you throw yourself at the mercy of the prison board, I might even get a few conjugal visits every month.”

“Is that some sort of twisted marriage proposal? You have to be married to be granted conjugal visits.”

“And if it were a proposal, how would you answer?” he asked, staring at her with a mischievous grin.

“Kogami, this isn’t the right time—“

“Slow down.” He was pleased to see the color returning to her cheeks. “This is almost over.”

McNeill, grinning inanely, walked up to them and applauded with every step. “That...was...spectacular. Sure I can’t bring you onto my payroll? For talent like that, the pay is quite good.”

“I’m sure,” Kogami replied.

“I got worried when Julius tripped up. I knew he was a goner, but I was certain he would take you out with him. Brilliant move, by the way.” The disappointment was evident in the businessman’s expression. “A final offer—“

“The only thing I’m interested in is a nap.” Kogami crossed his arms over his chest to show his resistance. “Now, about that ride back to town?”

“Cute,” McNeill said, winking at Akane. “Take the 86. I’ll have someone pick it up from the impound station.” 

“Julius is awake, Mr. McNeill,” a guard reported in.

“The car?”

The bodyguard shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

With the ravenous look of a wolf kept from its prey, McNeill grinned at his guests. “See you soon, Ko.” He joined his security detail in an SUV. When the doors shut, they made their way hastily up the mountain toward the crash site.

“I don’t think we want to be around for this next part,” Kogami whispered, guiding Akane to the car. As he pulled away from the parking lot and onto the main road, he heard an anguished, protracted scream.


	8. Chapter 8

A sleepless night spent in the Los Angeles county jail and then a morning spent with a sociopath left Kogami thoroughly exhausted. After a long, hot shower he was laying bare-chested on a sofa in Agent Iazzetti’s home. Enjoying the silence, he pulled the damp towel over his eyes and took a deep breath. It was the first time in the last 36 hours that he was able to let his guard down and relax. A cup of caramel latte was sitting on the coffee table beside him, but he was too tired to even think about simple pleasures.

Back at home, MWPSB cases were difficult enough on the surface without pretenses. Being buried so deeply undercover was a terribly trying experience. While Kogami was enjoying the rigors of the challenge, he was forced to admit that it certainly took a mental and physical toll.

With one eye partially opened, he caught movement over the back of the sofa and grinned. He had missed seeing the girl’s face, but he had not missed the face of Tigger, even as the blur of orange and black vanished over the edge. Kogami pretended to be unaware, yawning loudly, and stretched his arms over his head. Using the towel to rub his damp hair, he waited for the attack.

In a fairly decent Australian accent, Phoenix whispered, “The Japanese Wolfhound is rarely seen outside of the mysterious island it calls home. A hunter can recognize it by the faint smell of cigarettes, Armor All Tire Cleaner, and Irish Spring soap.” Unable to contain herself, she started giggling. “The Japanese Wolfhound never travels in a pack because they are solid bad asses in a fight, so it’s best to use total surprise in order to capture them.”

With a leap, Phoenix came flying over the back of the sofa. Kogami barely had time to tense his abdominal muscles before the 10-year old and her backpack came crashing down on top of him. He growled fiercely and held her arms against her body to keep her from slipping away.

“Japanese Wolfhound, huh? Well, have you ever heard of the American Cotton Finger?”

Phoenix stopped her struggling and giggling to stare up at him. “The American Cotton Finger? Are they dangerous?”

“Only if you’re a stuffed animal. The American Cotton Finger is known for abducting stuffed animals and keeping them in a pouch, usually on their backs so they can’t get away. But they have a secret weakness.”

“What’s the secret weakness?”

“They’re terribly ticklish.”

Phoenix stiffened in alarm. “Ko! Ko, don’t do it! Don’t—“ Phoenix burst into a fit of hysterical giggling as Kogami poked her repeatedly in the ribs. “Kogami, stop! Please!”

“Hey, you two!” Nysa called from the adjoining kitchen. “No horseplay in the living room! Besides, breakfast is ready. Come and get it.”

“Last one there is a pinto with a busted glass tailpipe!” Phoenix raced to the kitchen.

Before Kogami had time to grab his latte and go to the counter, the 10-year old had returned to the livingroom with her plate and a large glass of chocolate milk. Perched at the coffee table with a pile of chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs, she pressed the remote in search of car shows on the television. 

“You really didn’t need to do this,” Kogami said, his stomach growling.

“Considering what you’ve been through in the last 24 hours, it’s the least I can do,” Nysa replied. “I see the sweat pants are a good fit.” She reached into the dryer and pulled out a red t-shirt. “Give this a try. Hope it doesn’t still smell like mothballs. Most of my brother’s stuff is in storage now.”

Kogami pulled the t-shirt over his head and torso. “Certainly smells better than that holding cell.” 

“Can’t believe McNeill paid your bail and then picked you up. What a bastard!”

“Guess he wanted to see what he was dealing with up close.” Kogami sat down on the breakfast nook stool and stared into his orange juice. “He had quite a collection of cars.”

Nysa paused in her cooking to look at him. “Like what?”

“Mustang GT500. Nissan Silvia 320. He even has a Toyota Trueno AE86.” He met her austere eyes. “Mean something to you?”

She snatched the file folder from the side of the refrigerator and laid it out in front of him. There were pictures of the cars that he had mentioned. “For each car that you mentioned, there’s a dead racer who previously owned it. That brazen son of a bitch! He has no shame.”

“Isn’t this enough evidence to bring him in as a person of interest. I saw the cars. I could testify—“

“Circumstantial evidence at best.” Nysa gathered the pictures and threw them back in the folder. “By now he’s had the vin numbers scrubbed and the titles cleaned. Bastard!”

“It’s a good thing BabyGirl was in the impound yard.”

“Definitely. If he had the chance, he might have killed you both, taken the car, and had his lawyer make up whatever story he needed to get away with it. At least we know, he’s still interested. Watch your back, Ko.” She clapped him on the shoulder and put the folder to the side. “Watch Akane’s back, too.”

“Speaking of...where is Akane?”

“When I didn’t hear the shower running, I went to check on her. Poor thing must have taken a shower and then passed out cold on the bed. Let her sleep. It’s been a long night for both of you. You just wear it better than she does. Do you always go this hard, Kogami?”

Kogami ran a hand anxiously through his hair. “Does it show?” He took a bite of the pancakes and chased it down with orange juice. 

“Only to someone who’s been around long enough to recognize it.” Nysa added a pancake to his stack. “My first job with the Bureau was debriefing agents who had just come in from the field. It was difficult to watch. Men and women turned inside and then out. Undercover for months, sometimes years for a single operation. It’s only when they come up for air that they discover what they’ve lost...family, friends, birthdays, holidays, and for what? To maybe put a bad guy away for a few months. They never quite recover.” 

“I know the feeling.”

The FBI agent stared at him. “I read your jacket, Enforcer Shinya Kogami. Doesn’t it get lonely being a wolf?”

Kogami looked up the stairs into the corridor leading to the room where Akane was sleeping. “Not when you have the moon by your side.”

“Can’t argue with that. A scoundrel and a romantic. I’m starting to understand what she sees in you.” Taking his half empty plate, she chuckled as she started cleaning up the kitchen. “Go get some sleep, Ko. Squirt and I have some running to do. Won’t be back until later tonight. You’ll have the run of the place.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. “And the privacy.”

Kogami snorted softly and made his way up the stairs and into the corridor. Akane was snoring, lightly, but still snoring. He could hear her before he got to the doorway. Quietly going into the room, he sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her while she slept. There was a beauty to her face, unmarred by the usual thinly veiled scowl or narrowed eyes she used to reprimand him for his behavior. He had grown to love all of these faces, but there was something altogether perfect about her when her mind was free of any worry and far from this world. He wondered where her dreams had taken her, and if he was, even in some small part, a part of them.

Her phone hummed and vibrated noisily on the nightstand. To keep it from waking her, Kogami picked it up and read the text message: _Dinner tonight @ Dis? Say 9? —Luda_

Within seconds, his own phone hummed from his back pocket. Checking it, he saw the same message. _We’ll be there_ , he replied. Kogami chuckled when a holographic map appeared above Akane’s phone with a crossing marked at the location of the night club.

Brushing a stray hair from Akane’s face, he stood up and kissed her cheek. Just beneath her chin, he saw the winter sapphire. The heart-shaped pendant cast a speckled blue aura on the pillow beneath her chin. The emerald’s surface appeared fiery with the encrusted diamonds embedded into its many facets.

If Akane even suspected the value of the jewel, she would never had accepted it from him. One-of-a-kind—it was a gift that he had bartered with what remained of his soul. Its value was eclipsed only by his love for her and the emotion she, and only she, was able to draw out of him. He touched the sapphire, rolling it between his fingers as he watched her sleep. With a yawn, he closed his eyes and scratched lethargically at his chest.

Kogami lingered wearily on the edge of the bed, cupping his face in his hands, and closed his eyes. He was more tired than he wanted to admit, and there was no cure for it except to sleep until their evening dinner appointment. Walking to the other side of the bed, he slipped beneath the comforter beside Akane. 

Though he tried not to disturb her, Akane stirred and rolled over, curling herself against his chest. “Ko-ga-mi,” she said in her sleep.

Kogami smiled and kissed her nose, while making himself comfortable in the bed. He wrapped his arms about her and stared into her face until, with a sigh, he nodded off to sleep.

# # #

With a distinctly Dominican flavor that radiated through its interior design and decor, Dis was a popular, upscale night club with a spacious bar and a reservations-only restaurant. Occupying a notable corner in an affluent district of Los Angles, the venue was crowded, both inside and outside, with eager patrons seeking a drink and a meal in a culturally rich atmosphere of salsa and meringue. Rolexes and Tiffany jewelry spoke to the rank and status of the diners as they sipped authentic, home-brewed beer from chilled glasses or drank vintage wines from celebrity labels.

It was not that Kogami stood out or marred the sultry cityscape in any obvious way, but he felt oddly out of place among the urban elite of Los Angeles night life. However, the confidence he carried in every stride and the intensity of his presence assured his place among the diverse sea of faces in the restaurant’s many adjoining rooms. From the ceiling fans situated high above the dance floor to the billowing sheer drapes in the large glass-panel windows between rooms, the bombastic percussion of the music and the island life played throughout the establishment.

While the island murals and polished wooden cathedral ceilings were beautiful, Kogami was more distracted by the magnificent woman sitting at his side. Akane was especially ravishing in the restaurant’s festive ambience. Having borrowed a party dress from Nysa, she allowed the federal agent to do her hair and make up for the evening. Made from taffeta, the dress was a blend of dark crimson and black, which was accentuated by Akane’s exceptionally pale skin. 

A tight-fitting halter-top collar embraced the graceful curve of her neck. The exquisite dress was sleeveless and showed off the definition of her shoulders. Draped snugly over her svelte torso, the embossed material enveloped her lithe curves in a shimmering waterfall of silk. Beginning with a deep crimson at the neckline, the ruddy hue intensified in color until it faded into a black, cascading eruption of ruffles, which ended in an uneven hem just above mid thigh. Like a gossamer web caught in a spring breeze, a short, offset train of lace hung from the rear of the dress and swayed behind her leg.

To complement the dress, Akane was wearing black fingerless gloves and thigh-high fishnet stocks with intermittent floral patterns that accentuated her long legs. Ignoring the expensive stiletto heels in Nysa’s walk-in closet, Akane had chosen a pair of modest black heels to complete the look and a floral barrette made with crimson rhinestones. Despite good food and better company, it was difficult for Kogami to keep his eyes off of her during dinner. 

Akane was enjoying his attention. Between the swapping of personal stories and conversation, she tried to hide behind coy smiles and vivacious banter. But Kogami caught her stolen glances when she thought he wasn’t looking. He barely said a word, except to answer direct questions, because he could not focus or take his eyes from her.

Luda hung his head over the back of their booth and rubbed his stomach. With a groan, he glanced at Kogami and shook his head. “I ain’t never seen a skinny man put food away like that, man. Not a real man’s food, and Dominican food is a _real_ man’s food.” He laughed as Rocio playfully hit him with her napkin. “People eat like that in Japan? I heard that Asian food fills you for like a minute and then you hungry again an hour later.” They all laughed at the witty wisecrack. 

Looking flirtatiously at Kogami, Akane sipped at a glass of white wine. “That last dish was delicious, Luda,” she said. “What was it called?”

“ _Sancocho_ ,” Rocio replied. Dressed in a black, strapless leather dress, she looked like a super model as she leaned affectionately over Luda’s shoulder. “It’s a very popular dish in my country.”

“Wars have been started over some _sancocho_ ,” Luda said. He rubbed his full belly appreciatively as Rocio caressed his forearms.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Akane whispered.

“Yes, you look good enough to be my side chick as long as your man doesn’t mind,” Luda said. “Don’t want to have to show him these hands.” He rolled his fists at Kogami, and they all laughed at the playful threat of violence. “I’m just kidding!” He raised his arms over his head to shield his face from Rocio’s fists. “What’s on your mind, girl?”

“Do you ever race with the other Patriarchs?”

Though innocent enough, the question struck a nerve, not only in Luda, but Rocio as well. They both stiffened for a moment, and then Luda smiled, running his fingers along his girlfriend’s anxious hands. “I used to race with the Patriarchs, but no longer.”

“What happened?”

Kogami narrowed his eyes in warning and hoped that Akane would take the hint to back off. She had a tenacious sense of curiosity that often caused her to overstep the boundaries of personal space and privacy. “Hey, why the interrogation?”

“You asked the same question last night, Cerberus,” Luda said.

“No, I didn’t. It was a challenge,” Kogami retorted. “One I didn’t follow up on with more questions.” He glared at Akane and shook his head. It was rare for the Enforcer to be correcting the Inspector’s behavior. 

Understanding that her question bordered on rudeness, Akane clasped her hands in her lap and bowed in apology. “I didn’t mean to pry?”

“Lay off the lady, Ko. It’s alright, Akane. It’s not a story I usually tell, but that doesn’t mean I don’t tell it.” Luda smiled sadly and swallowed the last of his beer. “My racing days ended on a strip of road that the Denizens call the Dolorous Chasm. It’s a mountain pass 40 minutes from here near the beach. It’s uphill and downhill. Starts fast and ends faster.”

“Sounds like my kind of race,” Kogami said.

“Careful, Ko. Pride is a vice best afforded by wealthy men.” Luda looked across the table and gave Kogami a look of frustrated regret. “The race is supposed to end on an uphill slope, but if there’s bad blood, the racers can keep going into the chasm beyond it. It’s a one mile heat to a dead end and the ruins of an old church. I raced my baby brother into that chasm one night some years.”

“But it’s a dead end,” Akane said.

“Yes, it is. Two of us went into that chasm, but only one of us came back out.”

“Luda, I’m so sorry.” Aghast, Akane covered her mouth with her hands. Trembling, she sat back against Kogami.

“My lesson, my burden. Whenever I need a reminder to keep my pride in check, all I need do is remember that fateful night.” He held up a freshly opened bottle of imported beer. “I propose a toast. To friends, living or otherwise. _There should be no strife with the vanquished or the dead.”_

The four of them clinked glasses or bottles as the waitress returned to their table. “ _Salud_!” She placed a small plate of rice in the center of the table.

“Another dish?” Akane asked. “I’m not sure I could eat another bite.”

“Good! This here is not for you, little girl! You neither.” Luda batted Rocio’s hands back from the plate and silverware. “This here is a _man_ thing— _concon_.”

“ _Concon_?” Kogami asked. “What’s so special about it? It looks like someone cooked the rice too long. It’s burned on the bottom.”

“Mind your tongue, boy. This here is the men’s fare. They reserve this dish for the important people at the dinner table.” Luda reached into the rice with his fingers and, as he was about to eat it, he suddenly deviated from his mouth to deliver the bite-size morsel to Rocio’s full lips. “I ain’t no fool, baby. I know who wears the pants in this pit crew.” He licked his fingers and then wiped them on the napkin on his lap. “If I eat another bite, it’s over.”

Kogami followed Luda’s example and took a morsel to feed to Akane. With a smile, she nibbled at it and left a small bite for him to sample. “That’s good, Luda. That’s really good.”

“Hell yeah, it is.”

“Anything else I can get for you?” the waitress asked.

“A tow truck,” Rocio said, slapping Luda’s belly.

“We are definitely calling it a night,” Luda said. “But before we go, bring the ladies some of those _tostones_ to go in a box please. ”

“Separate checks, sir?”

“Nah, just one. I got this,” Luda said. He waved his hand at Kogami and reached for his wallet.

“I insist,” Kogami argued. “You’ve done a lot for us. The least we can do is pick up the tab.”

“Or,” said the waitress, “you can try the dance off.”

“Dance off?” Eyes narrowed in confusion, Kogami glanced at Luda, who gave him a defiant, mischievous smile.

“Have you heard of _bachata_?” Admiring his muscular frame, the waitress appraised Kogami from head to toe and showed her approval with flirtatious grin. “To settle the bill, you have a Latin dance off. One song, one winner, and the crowd decides. Winner gets a rose. Loser gets the tab.”

“My man, behind the wheel, you’re a fiend. But out there,” Luda said, pointing to the dance floor, “I’ll ruin you.”

“Sounds like a challenge.” Kogami smiled at the waitress. “ _Bachata_ it is.”

The waitress put her fingers to her lips and whistled loudly to direct all attention to her. The shrill note cut through the noise of silverware and idle chatter. “ _Bachata, mes amigos! Bachata amore!_ ” The shout was a cue to the DJ, who stopped the music to clear the dance floor. 

Excited patrons hurried back to their tables and ordered last-minute drinks before returning to their seats. As word spread of the challenge, there was muted applause throughout the crowded nightclub. In response, servers quickly took their positions along the walls, and the overhead lighting dimmed in the bar area and then room by room throughout the restaurant’s dining chambers. 

With the exception of some track lighting in key areas, the only illumination was a series of warm spotlights that flooded the dance floor that was centered between the bar and the three main doors to the dining room. As the hushed voices in the establishment grew quiet, a fusion of salsa music rose from the speakers around the dance floor.

Luda got up with a cocksure grin on his face. As he led Rocio to the dance floor, he took her hand and lovingly kissed each finger. “Your funeral, Cerberus. Remember, you asked for this.” 

“Kogami,” Akane protested, “this is a really bad idea. I can’t—” She looked passed him to where Luda and Rocio were taking their positions. Rocio’s hands caressed the back of Luda’s head. His face was nestled in the fine curve of her neck and shoulder. Winking at her, he embraced her slender waist against his lower body. “I can’t dance. Not like that.”

Putting the fedora on top of his head, Kogami gave it a firm pat to secure it. Leading her to the dance floor, he took her hand and held it and her tightly against his chest. She was trembling, so he ran his hands slowly down her bare shoulders, along the small of her back, and between the firm swellings of her ass. 

Gasping at his touch, Akane arced her back and pressed herself harder against him. She she grasped at his shoulders, Kogami’s hand lingered on the back of her thigh. His long fingers massaged the smooth material of the dress and the firm flesh beneath it. “Remember that night after the fireworks in Kitsune Park?”

Akane pulled away from him. “You bring that up here? Kogami!”

“Ssh,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m not being cruel.” Kogami put his hands on her hips and tried to maneuver her body into the necessary position for the rhythmic footwork, but she resisted his efforts. “Just listen to the music and then make a figure-8 pattern with your hips. You can do that. I know you can.”

“And just how do you know that?” Her voice was muffled as she hid her face in the warm, shadowy folds of his leather jacket. 

“I’ve seen you and Shion and Kunizaka in the gym dancing to Latin music.”

“You were spying on us?”

“I wasn’t spying. It was Kagari. He took video and showed me later. I wanted to be mad at him, but I was impressed. Of course, he thinks Shion is the better dancer. I think you’ve got potential, Inspector. But then,” he whispered, kissing her forehead sweetly, “I might be a bit biased.” 

Akane gave in to his charm, as he knew she would, and walked demurely at his side. She stiffened in humiliation as every eye in the establishment turned to them on the dance floor. “Kogami!” she hissed through clenched teeth. Her body stiffened abruptly in confusion. “Is your leg supposed to be there?”

“This is called the offset position,” he explained. “Keeps you from stepping on my toes.”

“That far under?”

Kogami sank deeper into his knees and urged her to follow him until he could feel the warmth between her legs through the top of his jeans. “That’s the close position. Bachata is a very sensual dance.” He ran his lips across her neck and then abruptly spun her away in front of him, while holding on to her hand. With a roguish grin, he reeled her back in to him.

“Kogami, I don’t know about this.” Akane struggled to compose herself after the dizzying spiral. She glanced over at Rocio and Ludwig, who were embracing each other lovingly. The couple eyed their competition with playful, taunting eyes.

Kogami sighed in resignation. There was no margin for error. No way to save face now that they were committed to the dance floor. The audience was watching from their seats. Walking away only meant humiliation for him and her. There was only one way to get Akane thinking in the right direction. He had to invoke her fury. 

Akane was usually at her best in most situations, but she was never better than when she was angry. Kogami remembered how furious she had gotten in the car when he power drifted into a parking place on the curb near the carnival. He could still feel the sting of her fingers across his face. The memory spurred him to action.

As the music swelled in volume, Kogami brought his hands up the back of Akane’s neck and not-so-gently grabbed her by the hair. Forcibly tilting her head to the side, he exhaled warm breath along the length of her long neck until goosebumps ran across her skin. Unsettled by his heavy-handed aggression, she struggled to be free of his grip, but he did not relent and did not let go. 

While he was fiercely devoted to her and tolerated the leash imposed on him, it was time to remind Inspector Tsunemori that the wolf that laid willingly at her feet was still dangerously feral and still a beast. His obedience was a phantasm to placate her into a false sense of safety. That safety was an illusion. Beneath the manifesting passion that burned within his heart, Kogami wanted nothing more than to devour her body and soul.

Staring intently into her eyes from beneath the dark brim of the fedora, Kogami recognized the signs of alarm in Akane’s face. He experienced an intense feeling of satisfaction at her helplessness, as well as a simultaneous pang of guilt for frightening her. Wide with dismay, her eyes burned with indignation, even resentment, but she did not pull away. Even as he held her wrists in his powerful hands, she did not resist him.

“I would die for you,” he whispered slowly, fervently in her ear. Kogami kissed her, impassioned by her closeness, and breathed in the aroused sigh of her response as if he were deprived of air. “Be with me.” 

With her arms wrapped about his neck, as if he were her only anchor, she whispered his name in surrender, “Kogami.” Her head fell weakly back across her shoulders. When he brushed his lips softly across her ear, Akane shuddered involuntarily. Back arced stiffly in the throes of passion, she grew heavy and faint in his arms.

“No cymatic scanners here, Akane, no Sibyl. No ranks and no Ginoza.” Kogami swayed with her as the measured pulse of the music grew to a crescendo. He held her fingers against his muscular chest above his heart and moved her body from side to side with the rhythm. “I want you.”

Moving his hips in a circular motion, Kogami bent sharply at the knees and slowly moved his offset leg beneath her to synchronize their movement. Without resistance, Akane swung her hips seductively and followed his leg in order to perform the rapid dance. The motion was accentuated by the multiple ruffles of the dress and elicited a round of applause from an appreciative audience. 

Guiding her hands across his chest, down to his waist, and then behind his back, Kogami led the dance and pressed his swaying hips against her. He laid his hand against her cheek and, partially cupping her chin in his palm, he forced her to look up at him. Akane did not resist. He could feel the heat of her breath as he lightly brushed her lips with his thumb. “ _I want you_ ,” he said, his voice husky with passion. “Say it.”

Eyes glassy, she breathlessly replied, “I want you.” Akane’s breathing quickened, and she desperately wrapped her fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt. “I really, really want you.”

To taunt her, Kogami agilely stepped away and spun Akane in a quick revolution in front of him before bringing her back against him in a reverse position. Standing behind her, he cradled her back and shoulder against his muscular body while moving his hips in increasingly slower, circular motions until he was grinding against her hips. From this intimate position, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. He hung his head over her shoulder and left soft kisses across her skin.

Aroused by his touch, Akane closed her eyes and guided his promiscuous hands. She slid his fingertips upward across her swaying hips, stomach, and finally over her breasts to her neck. Then without warning, she shoved his hands away from her body and pirouetted just out of his reach. On her terms and in her time, she closed the distance between them. Staring into his eyes, Akane gently raked her fingernails across the back of his neck and down over his defined chest muscles and abs. Pretending to reject him, she snatched the fedora from his head and covered her heart with it.

Akane closed her eyes and danced alone in front of him. Arms and hips undulating provocatively from side to side, she held the hat above her head to tease him. Opening her eyes, she twirled the fedora on her fingers and beckoned him to come take it from her. The audience roared loudly at her boldness and shouted their approval. 

Comfortable with the sultry movements and rhythm, Akane sauntered back to Kogami, reached above him, and put the fedora back on the crown of his head. Then bringing her knee up, she momentarily wrapped her leg around his leg and arced her back, reaching for and nearly touching the floor with her fingertips. To balance her, Kogami held her by the waist and then brought her back from the provocative pose. 

Interlacing their fingers, Kogami raised their joined hands up into the air above their heads and brought them back slowly out to the side. Bodies pressed closely together and moving in time to the music, they stared into each other’s eyes. Words were unnecessary. Her gaze was intoxicating, and he ached to have her, regardless of any spectators. 

Heart racing uncontrollably, Kogami struggled to control himself as her hands wandered across his lower back and hips. Kissing her tenderly on the lips, her cheek, and then her chin, he whispered, “Well done, Inspector.” He felt faint and wanted nothing more than to be alone with her to satisfy his aching desire.

The music slowed and then stopped. An instant rumble of applause erupted from the crowd as they shouted accolades and encouragement to the dancers. Disregarding the crowd, Kogami stood in front of Akane. He resisted the urge to fall to his knees before her, and instead, continued to sway slowly with her, kissing her fingers affectionately. The cries of adulation from the patrons grew louder and reverberated in the cathedral ceilings, which caused the track lights to precariously pitch to and fro overhead. 

Carrying two silver trays in her hands, their waitress joined them on the dance floor. With her back to the crowd, she attempted to offer the tray with the bill to Kogami. Hissing and booing, the patrons voiced their dissent. Laughing at their reaction, the server then leaned forward with the tray carrying a red rose. The voice of the gathering’s approval came with the chime of silverware tapping crystal.

“Congratulations,” the waitress said. “The crowd has spoken.”

Akane reached for the rose with a smile as she curtsied to the audience. A second waitress came out to take an official picture for the restaurant. Playfully, Akane put the rose in her mouth and leaned toward Kogami, who took the stem in his mouth and smiled mischievously. A strobe light effect of flashes went off as the restaurant patrons got in on the moment and snapped pictures of them together after their victory. 

The other tray, with the bill, was promptly delivered to Luda. The disgruntled pit boss shook his head in dismay and reached for this wallet. “You drive onto my streets, _my streets_ , and bring down Patriarchs. I was okay with that.” He shrugged unapologetically. “Even made me a little money betting against my own team. But no, that’s not enough. You come into my favorite restaurant and humiliate me in front of my girl.” Luda glared at Kogami, but struggled to keep a straight face as he complained. “ _Still_ , that’s not enough. Now you costing me money as well as reputation.”

“All in a night’s work.” Kogami grabbed the pit boss’ offered hand and performed the elaborate handshake that ended with a thump of brotherly love on the chest.

“I swear, we were twins separated at birth.” Luda pointed at Kogami. “You were the evil twin. I was the better looking one.”

“Those were some serious moves, Akane,” Rocio said. “Took me a year to train Ludwig.”

“Ludwig?” Kogami asked. “That’s your name?”

“Oh, so now you gonna punk my name?” Luda challenged. He wrapped his arm around Rocio, giving her a dirty look for the revelation. “My mother had a thing for Beethoven. Can you play piano, Ko?”

“As a matter of fact—“

“Shut up—just shut up.” Luda rolled his eyes. “Is there anything he can’t do?”

Akane smiled proudly, leaning her head against Kogami’s shoulder. “I’m beginning to wonder.”

“There’s one thing I can’t do.” Kogami looked down at Akane and put his hat on top of her head. “Can’t live without you,” he whispered and kissed her cheek.

“Aww, _querida_ ,” Rocio gasped. 

“That was so corny.” Luda glared at Kogami, who laughed at him.

“Luda, don’t be rude!” Rocio slapped Luda’s arm. “I remember when you used to be that romantic!”

Luda again rolled his eyes and sighed despondently. “I still am. You just don’t take the time to appreciate it.” 

“Come on, Akane,” Rocio pouted. She took Akane’s hand. “Let’s go to the ladies’ room before we leave. I need to powder my nose.”

“I thought you wanted to take these two home and show them Purgatory,” Luda protested.

“Luda, why are you so dense!”

“Oh, _let’s go the ladies’ room_ is code for y’all just need to talk _Girl talk_.” Luda shook his head with skepticism. He tapped Kogami on the chest. “Might as well go to the bar and have a drink, man. A talk in the ladies’ room shouldn’t take long. An hour. If they’re really doing their make up, add another hour.” He raised his arm in self-defense as Rocio swatted him with her clutch.

“Ludwig!” Glaring at him for his taunts, Rocio led Akane down the crowded corridor to the restrooms.

“We’ll be outside!” Luda shouted after them. “With the cars! Waiting!” He turned to Kogami. “Got your smokes, man. This might be a while.”


	9. Chapter 9

Double parked behind Kogami on the boulevard outside of Dis, Luda shook his head from side to side as he admired the exquisite lines of the Porsche beneath the street lights. “This car right here. She’s one of a kind.”

“So is Rocio,” Kogami said, speaking around the cigarette in his mouth. Hands in his pockets, he leaned against the quarter panel of the car and eyed the underground pit boss with a grin. “You two a permanent thing?”

“ _All human evil comes from a single cause, man’s inability to sit still in a room.”_

“The most esteemed Blaise Pascal? Doesn’t quite answer the question.” He held Luda’s gaze from beneath the thick forelock of his black hair.

“When I look at her, the world doesn’t exist. I mean, it does, but it all slows down, and I can finally sit still in the room. She makes the best in me possible.”

“And?”

“And we just found out this morning, she’s expecting. So yeah, is this a permanent thing? I hope so.” Luda stroked his chin, and then pretending to throw a punch, he playful thumped Kogami’s chest. “And you? What’s a nice girl like that doing with a lone wolf like you?”

Kogami narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hard lessons can lead to a hard head and an even harder heart. Something tells me, you’ve had some hard lessons, and still she sticks by you.”

Kogami swallowed hard and bowed his head. When it came to any matters pertaining to Akane, he was undeniably weak. “I honestly don’t know what she sees in me.” 

“Something she clearly doesn’t see in anybody else.” He took Kogami by the shoulders and gave him a shake from melancholy. “And that ain’t such a bad thing.”

Abruptly, frantic screaming came from inside the club. Scores of frightened people sprinted through the entrance where they scrambled in all directions on the sidewalks, even disrupting traffic in the street. Luda’s phone chimed with an incoming text. “It’s Rocio: 911. Something’s wrong.” He reached into his coat and pulled a .380 from a concealed shoulder holster. “You strapped?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Kogami asked. He tossed the cigarette to the ground.

As the two men were poised to force their way through the panic-stricken crowd and back into the club, Rocio came running from the doors among the runners.

“Luda, there were men with guns,” she said breathlessly. Her arms instinctively went to her stomach to protect the unborn child growing within her. “They tried to trap me and Akane in the bathroom.”

“Where is she?” Kogami asked.

“They weren’t interested in me. Akane knocked the hell out of one of them and told me to start running. She took off in the opposite direction.”

“Did they follow her?” Luda asked. Two gunshots came in answer to his question. 

“That came from the back of the club,” Rocio said, “not inside it.” 

“Virgil, priority initialization.”

The face of the Roman poet appeared as a hologram above the screen of Luda’s phone. “How may I serve, Lord Patriarch?”

“Locate Cerberus’ navigator and any inbound hostiles. Now, Virgil!”

A magnified city grid appeared where the poet’s face had been. “The navigator is on the other side of the municipal parking garage, one block north, and moving quickly. Local feeds show two hostiles moving in on her. Shall I send a distress call to the nearest law enforcement authority?”

“How far away are the cops?”

“Too far!” Kogami shouted. He sprinted back to the Porsche and slid across the hood in one smooth motion. “They’ll never get here in time!”

“Then let’s go!” Luda said. He took Rocio by the arm and ushered her back to their Corvette.

“We don’t know what’s going on,” Kogami said. “Get Rocio to safety. I’ve got this.”

“Not by yourself, you don’t,” Luda said. “Virgil download the navigator’s coordinates to Patriarch Cerberus. Summon the Patriarchs and Denizens. All hands on deck.”

“Fury itself supplies arms,” the AI replied. “Priority request for assistance to all hands has been dispatched. Priority: reunification of Patriarch Cerberus and his navigator.”

Kogami got in the car and slammed the door. As if knowing the urgency of the situation, the Porsche roared to life, quick to respond to his demands. Tires shrieking, BabyGirl raced down the street and drifted through the intersection as Kogami made a severe right turn at the corner of the parking garage tower. 

“She’s on the move,” Virgil said over the car’s speakers. The city grid appeared on the dashboard console. “But alas, so are the jackals.” Akane’s signal was displayed as a black queen being pursued by two white pawns.

Glancing at the map, Kogami took a quick left into a narrow alley. He took his foot off the accelerator for a heartbeat. It was just enough time to shift the Porsche’s weight from the rear tires to the front. Then getting back on the throttle, he sent the car into a sideways power slide that brought the Porsche back into traffic on the the main boulevard.

“Incoming call,” Virgil said calmly. “It is the navigator.”

“Kogami?”

The Enforcer was relieved to hear her voice. “Where are you?”

“There were two men chasing me, but I gave them the slip in a parking garage near the night club.”

“Are you somewhere safe?”

“No, there are more of them,” Akane whispered. Despite the desperate situation, she was remarkably calm and focused. Kogami would have expected nothing less of a veteran MWPSB Inspector.

“How many of them?”

“I can’t be certain. Ten at least. Some traveling on foot and others in sport-utility vehicles. Black ones with tinted windows.”

“Like the ones from McNeill’s estate.”

There was pause of recognition. “Yes.”

“Recalculating,” Virgil said. “Based on CCTV feed, the danger is imminent, Cerberus.” Four more pawns appeared on the GPS map display. “These odds are woeful.”

“Send her a crossing that leads to me,” Kogami ordered. Following her movements on the map, he ignored a red light and slid through the intersection, barely dodging the cross traffic. Through a cacophony of beeping horns and screeching tires, he made no deviation from the prescribed line to get to her location on the map. 

A black king appeared on the grid with a white pawn closing in behind it. Kogami risked a look in the rearview mirror. He could see the black SUV weaving in and out of traffic to get into position behind him. Pressing the accelerator to the floor, the Enforcer raced through the traffic to put as much distance as he could between the SUV and himself. “Akane, can you see me on the map?”

“Kogami, they’re behind you.”

“Nevermind that. Do whatever you can to dodge the men following you and get to me,” he said. “I’m coming for you.” Ignoring all laws and safety protocols, he downshifted hard, and the Porsche protested for a moment as he sped through a crowded avenue of Los Angeles. 

Too blurry to read, the GPS map winked out and then refreshed, but the screen came back with erratic streaks of color and scattered pixels running like wet paint across the monitor. “Virgil?” Kogami tapped the screen with a knuckle. “Virgil, you there?”

The screen flashed erratically and presented the horrific image of the poet’s face. Eyes blackened and smoking, the hologram bled from its nose and mouth. “Bad parameter, Cerberus. Syntax error. I am undone.”

“Virgil!”

“Let me rage as I die.” The screen went blank. Rebooting, the Porsche’s standard navigation screen came up without the city grid or the tell-tale positioning of the key pieces to Kogami’s dilemma.

“What happened to Virgil?” Akane asked. “I don’t see the crossing anymore.”

“I don’t know.”

“Kogami, they’re trying to cut me off!”

“Run, Akane! Keep moving toward my last position!”

Ahead of him, Kogami saw two black SUVs barreling down the boulevard with reckless abandon. Maneuvering the Porsche onto the empty sidewalk, he was able to gain ground on them and shot ahead without any obstructions in his way. The commotion in the street was thinning the night-time traffic. Frightened drivers began to pull over out of the way as news of the wild chase reached their vehicle safety monitors.

Kogami took advantage of the break in traffic and raced headlong down the street. He saw Akane running for her life in the middle of the road. Bracing his arms against the steering wheel, he tapped the brake and brought the Porsche into a lateral skid. Her eyes grew wide and she stopped, petrified with fright, as the car rushed toward her at high velocity. Tires spinning against the asphalt until smoke rose from the spent rubber, BabyGirl came to a halt only a foot away from where Akane stood panting in terror. 

“Get in!” Kogami shouted, throwing open the passenger door. As she complied, he got out of the car, his gray eyes narrowed in rage. Drawing the 9mm from the small of his back, he took careful aim and fired at their pursuers.

The first shot took out the driver of the first SUV. His head jerked abruptly backward from the blast. He collapsed onto the steering wheel beneath the blood-smeared windshield. His dead hands cut the wheel sharply to the left and crashed the vehicle into a row of parked vehicles along the curb. 

The smaller cars acted like a ramp that promptly launched the SUV into the air. Its unrated velocity propelled the vehicle high into the air where it arched gracefully in flight above Kogami and Akane until gravity brought it back down on the far side of the Porsche. The vehicle landed on the rear bumper and twirled like a ballerina on pointe before landing on a HumVee in another row of cars parked on the other side of the street.

The second SUV braked hard to avoid the same fate. Kogami fired twice through the windshield to take down that driver and his shot-gun wielding passenger. Shielded behind the SUV’s doors, the remaining gunmen jumped from the backseat to return fire. 

Kogami cried out, more in anger than pain, when a round struck him in the left shoulder. The impact nearly spun him around except for the Porsche behind him to support his compromised balance. Slammed back against the car by the force of the bullet, he dropped to one knee. Taking aim below the SUV’s doors, Kogami brought down the gunman by shooting out his ankle and then scored a head shot that instantly killed him.

“Kogami!” Akane screamed.

Firing two more rounds at the farthest gunman, Kogami fell back into the Porsche. He popped the clutch and sped away from the scene with the intention of putting as much distance between the assailants and them as he could. Cutting the wheel hard, he took a severe right turn onto a street that caused the Porsche to drift wide and into the opposite lane of traffic. Agile as a leopard, the Porsche recovered and returned to the right side of the street as Kogami fought for position with the traffic.

“Are you hurt? Were you hit?” Kogami gasped when he tried to flex his shoulder. An insufferable, burning pain throbbed at the site of the injury as the muscles convulsed in acute spasms to compensate for the trauma. “Akane?”

“No, but—Kogami!“ Akane’s voice went up two octaves with concern. “Are you bleeding?”

Pressing a hand against his shoulder, Kogami groaned as blood trickled between his fingers. Hand tight on the wheel, he took his eyes from the road long enough to inspect the smear of crimson. Teeth grit in pain, he glanced at his shoulder. In the soft blue of the interior display lights, he could see the hole in the leather jacket and the glistening wetness flowing from the wound beneath it. 

“Rodriguez won’t be happy. This was a nice jacket.” He pressed a hand against the wound and winced in pain. 

“We have to get you to a hospital.”

“If we do that,” he said, glancing in the rearview mirror, “we’ll be putting a lot of innocent people in danger.”

“Then we call for back up,” Akane insisted. “This is no different than being back home.”

“Only that the bad guys have _real_ guns.” Braced against the steering wheel, Kogami pulled the e-brake for a brief second to guide the Porsche’s tail into a gentle drift around a tight corner. He drove the car into the opposite lane of traffic and then kicked out the rear end to drift into an abrupt left turn, momentarily outdistancing their pursuers.

“We call for back up now, and we undermine the entire case, Inspector,” Kogami said. He didn’t regret the harsh tone to his voice. If she was right about one thing, it was that they were not in Japan. There was no Oracle here to measure the extent of the danger. No army of drones was coming to their defense, and while the whole of the LAPD would descend on the city to keep them safe: salvation would come at a terrible cost.

“There’s a saying, Inspector. It’s from the author of _The Inferno_. ‘No one thinks of how much blood it costs.’ We call for help now: not only is our cover blown; the case is blown; and those racers died for nothing. They’ll have no justice.” He looked over to her, even as she averted her eyes to avoid his gaze. “Can you live with that blood on your hands?”

“I hate when you put things in perspective like that. But Kogami,” she argued, pounded her fist against the dashboard, “is this case worth your life?”

“I’m not dead yet, Inspector,” he said. “Alright, we can run to Royce and Rodriguez. Right now if you want. But what do we have?” He knew the answers as well as she did. “More circumstantial evidence. An orchestrated attack on two undercover police officers.”

“There’s no way to connect McNeill to this. Not yet.”

“All we know is someone wants this car and would kill for it...a second time.”

“That lends a possible motive, but still doesn’t tie McNeill to Reese Iazzetti’s murder.” Akane crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the passenger side window. “The LAPD would be no closer to solving this case than they were before we got to town.” She shook her head and sighed.

“Akane, we’re doing our job. We’re playing the part. Clearly McNeill still wants the car. Enough to abduct you and potentially kill me.”

“So what now? Let them chase us down until there’s no where to go. At least at the hospital there’s security, and if we call for back up, Rodriguez could call in their tactical team ahead of us.”

“And when McNeill learns of our sting, he boards a plane and is gone forever. Don’t you want justice for Phoenix, if not for her father?”

“Of course, I do, Kogami!” Akane closed her eyes and clung to the loose safety harness as the Porsche slid through a hard left turn, narrowly missing a head-on collision with a garbage truck. “What good are we to Phoenix, if we end up dead like her father. Running from McNeill’s hired guns didn’t do him much good, now did it? These aren’t your average car thieves.” Hands on the dashboard, she braced herself for another high-speed maneuver. “Which is why we need to go to the police! Kogami, this operation is over!”

“We aren’t your average street racers, Akane. This isn’t over until McNeill is behind bars or in a box,” Kogami replied. “I prefer the latter.”

Barely under Kogami’s control, the Porsche swerved in a half-circle and nearly clipped a telephone pole. His hands were slipping on the wheel from a combination of sweat and blood, but he gunned the throttle and let the tires smoke as BabyGirl leaped across three lanes of traffic. 

“You’re enjoy this.” The disappointment in Akane’s eyes might have crippled his will and brought him to heel. But their lives were on the line, so there was no room to falter. 

“This is what I do, Inspector. I ride the razor’s edge and get bloody, so that you don’t have to.” He gave her a stern look, an expression of frustration, and it worked, because she looked away in defeat. “I’ll get us out of this.” Kogami’s eyes softened as did the tone of his voice. “I promise.”

“How?”

“When you’re the fox and the hounds are closing. You go to ground.”

“We know nothing about this city. And Virgil is offline for some reason.” She threw her phone down into her lap. “The only place we have to go are our hotel or the precinct building, and we barely know our way back there.”

“Remember this?” Kogami gripped the steering wheel in one hand, downshifted, and tapped the brake. Akane’s necklace swung from the rearview mirror like a pendulum helping to calculate the g-forces to execute the perfect drift through the large roundabout.

“This was the last crossing on the course from the Round the World heat,” Akane said. “Only you’re drifting in the opposite direction.” As he took the hard right turn into a nearby alley, she could see the distant lights of the port authority on the cityscape horizon and stared at him in disbelief. “You’re headed back to the warehouse? On the docks? Are you trying to get us killed? There was only one way in and one way out of there. There’ll box us in for sure.”

“Do you remember the shipping containers? If we can get some distance between them and us, we can hide inside one of them.”

“The port is huge,” Akane said, getting excited. “Since we’ve been there, we know the layout and where the open containers are, but what then?”

“One thing at a time, Inspector.” Kogami smiled and shook the fog from behind his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy. “The first objective is: we shake them from our tail. The second objective is: getting somewhere safe. But I don’t quite remember how to get there. I’m going to need your help.”

“That’s strange,” Akane said, checking her phone. “The app isn’t working, but Virgil is still active. Only it’s as if he’s been cut off from service range.”

“Can you access the city map?”

“How is that even possible? The map and the crossings are active.” She brought up the holographic grid and began manipulating the access points. “Make a right turn here.”

Kogami slammed on the brakes, nearly passing the narrow street as he continued to elude their pursuers. “Nothing like the last minute, Inspector.”

“Sorry.”

The Enforcer grinned and braced his arms against the bucking Porsche’s steering wheel. Missing the edge of the brick wall by inches, the 911 took the turn and raced into the alley. Struggling to control his breathing, Kogami frowned and stared ahead of them. “Is it getting dark in here to you?”

“Kogami, you’re losing consciousness. Stay awake! You’re losing too much blood. Help me get this jacket off.” 

Gritting his teeth against the pain and the contortion of his long limbs in a confined space, Kogami leaned forward and then back again. He curled himself against the driver’s side window to help her remove the jacket from his torso. Though he tried to protect his shoulder, he gasped in pain as he slipped out of the sleeve.

“This is going to hurt.” Akane peeled the fingerless gloves from her hands. She folded one of the gloves multiple times and pressed it hard against the bullet wound.

Kogami grunted in pain. Inadvertently cutting the wheel to the right, BabyGirl slid into a sideways skid that caused the car to skip several times across the asphalt.

“Eyes on the road, Enforcer!” Akane ordered. She used the other glove to tie around his shoulder to hold the first in place. “Kogami?”

“I’m alright. Did the bullet pass through, or is it still in there?” Kogami asked.

“There’s only one wound that I can see,” Akane replied.

“What’s the next crossing?”

“A left up ahead and that shoots us across a mall parking lot. Is that wise? The last time we raced through here it was nearly 2 in the morning. At this hour, there might be shoppers walking to their cars.”

“There was a construction site on the backlot. We can go through there.” 

“But there’s a fence.”

“Not for long.” Kogami brought the Porsche into a drift and broadsided the construction fence. 

As the chainlink fence collapsed under the force and weight of the speeding 911, the sharpened prongs raked across the driver’s side quarter panel and door, scratching the exterior and causing sparks to fly from the violent contact. To spare the tires from puncturing, Kogami waiting until the fence was clear before straightening the Porsche and speeding into the construction site. Bogged down in the loose soil, BabyGirl’s tires spun and chewed at the ground to find purchase.

In the confines of the city with traffic in the streets, the pursuing SUVs were no match for the Porsche’s power, its precision, or response. But as long as they remained in the dirt, their pursuers would have the advantage and surety of 4-wheel drive. Kogami imaged their joy at thinking they had chased him into a bad place. He smirked and tucked his chin with determination. If he could get to the port authority’s access causeway ahead of them, he could put down the necessary distance to evade them with three miles of pure speed. But there was no reason BabyGirl could not show off her versatility, rally handling in the dirt.

As the car banked sharply through a narrow row of lumber and construction vehicles, a black SUV drove at them in an attempt to clip the rear of the car by broadsiding them. Kogami deftly sent the Porsche into an inertial drift that avoid the imminent collision. Spinning out in a tight circle that left the air clouded with dust, he took cover between two rows of stacked concrete barriers. The path was made for a forklift, not big vehicles. With only inches on either side, BabyGirl raced through the narrow space, while their pursuers were forced to stop and find a wider path for pursuit. 

With the room and the means for escape, Kogami downshifted and stomped the accelerator to the floor. The construction fence lay in tatters from the contingent of SUVs and their entry onto the site. So with nothing in his way, he raced back toward the shopping mall. Fishtailing in the soil, the Porsche threw rooster tails of dirt high into the air as if to mock their pursuers. 

Chirping noisily, the tires caught on the parking lot asphalt on the edges of the parking lot. Kogami was grateful to be back on solid ground. In a trail of dust, BabyGirl obediently bolted toward the docks. When Kogami downshifted, he braced himself as the Porsche sucked back, its engine roaring so loudly that the driving cabin reverberated with the noise. Opening the car up, he was doing well over 100mph when they hit the mouth of the causeway.

“Can you drive a stick shift?” Kogami asked.

“I passed the test,” Akane replied. There was a dubious look in her eyes. “I haven’t driven a manual since then.”

It was difficult to interpret the look in her eyes as fear or uncertainty. “Fair enough. All we can do is try.” 

The landscape beside and behind them vanished into blurry streaks of color and light as they raced across the causeway, still gaining speed. There was a loud noise, like the sound of a bass drum, that came from beneath the car. It was accompanied by another abrupt pounding from the rear. Startled by the unfamiliar commotion, Akane braced herself in the seat and then cried out when the Porsche suddenly sank down an inch as they blasted across the causeway.

“What was that?” she asked, too afraid to move.

Kogami chuckled. “That’s BabyGirl doing her job. There are air in-takes built into the undercarriage. When BabyGirl is moving fast, really fast, those in-take activate suspension sensors that cause the car to lower itself to the road. That other noise you heard was the tail scoop redirecting air to help push the rear of the car down onto the asphalt. The combined result is increased handling, speed, and stability.”

Akane ran her hand over the dashboard. “Nice work, BabyGirl.”

Kogami guided the speeding Porsche into the outer yard of the docks. Recalling the initial layout of the shipping corridor, he drifted through the lazy dog leg and swerved onto the warehouse ramp that led into the rundown structure. Kogami braked sharply and slowed the Porsche to a crawl. The car paused on the the ramp leading to the second story while he properly aligned the tires. Revving the engine and popping the clutch, he spun the tires all the way up the ramp. This left a cloud of smoke and skid marks across the slippery warehouse floor. Putting the car in reverse, Kogami slowly backed down the ramp to the main floor.

“What was that all about?”

“A false trail.” He was careful to keep the tires straight and maintained a slow pace to avoid putting any extra tire marks on the floor that might expose his ruse. 

“They’ll see the tire marks and will think we’re making a run for it.”

“While we go hide out in a container,” Kogami said. “When they don’t see us, they’ll suspect that we double backed to the causeway.”

Kogami drove the Porsche out of a side entrance and parked in front of a large green shipping container. “Hop into the driver seat. I’ll open the doors.”

The world shifted unsteadily as he stepped out of the Porsche. Lightheaded and panting, he broke into a cold sweat and dropped to a knee before righting himself against the car. Accidentally catching his left arm on the door, Kogami cried out in agony and fell to the ground.

“Kogami!”

“Get in the driver’s seat, Akane,” growled through grit teeth. “When I get the container’s doors open, you back in.”

Struggling to make his way to the rear of the car, Kogami heard her shuffling over the console to get into position. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her watching him in the rearview mirror. With a snort half of frustration, half in pain, he tried to pull the container door open, but it was secured with a padlock. Taking a steel pipe from a pile of debris along the side of the container, he drove it into the top of the lock and twisted it. There was a satisfying pop as the lock gave way under his weight. 

Pocketing the ruined padlock to prevent any suspicion, Kogami opened the container’s large, heavy doors with effort. A blast of arctic air escaped from the interior. Other than a thick layer of frost and a few icicles hanging from the door, there was nothing else inside.

Above him, the light of a security camera winked on and blinked intermittently. Though powered up, the device was not receiving a signal. From the security camera to the soft glow of the lights lining the interior sides and the cooling systems venting cold air into the structure, it was evident the container was in service and fully powered, despite sitting empty on the yard.

“Back her in,” Kogami said, holding the doors open.

The Porsche’s engine revved abruptly and angrily, sounding much like a swarm of angry wasps. With a warning shriek from the turbos, the 911 abruptly stalled. Akane stuck her head out of the window with a spurious smile of apology. “Reverse was never my best gear.”

Shaking his head, Kogami brushed the sweat-dampened forelock of hair from his face and groaned. He could hear the squeal of tires from the direction of the causeway. “Stay behind the wheel. I need you to steer. You can do that, right?”

He ran in front of the Porsche and leaned down over the hood. Hands shoved in the hot grill, he pushed with all of his might. “Akane, get your foot off the brake and just steer,” he growled. 

“Sorry!” she piped in horror. She craned her neck around and looked back at the container, doing her best to maneuver the car inside of it.

Kogami gasped, wincing in pain when he sliced his hand on a piece of metal beneath the car. There was no time to inspect the damage because he could hear their pursuers closing in on the warehouse. Repositioning his hands, he pushed the car all the way into the middle of the refrigeration container before running back to the entrance to close the doors. 

The heavily weighted doors were pressure sealed, and he heard the seal activate as soon as the doors closed together. To prevent an unwanted entry, Kogami jammed the ruined padlock into the valve sealing unit and shoved the steel rod across the frame in case that wasn’t enough of a deterrent. 

Pushing the car farther into the rear of the container, he waited and listened, but the container was well insulated. All he could hear was the soft hiss of the cooling system as it vented more chilled air on top of him. The cold was numbing, and already his fingers were losing feeling.

Teeth chattering, Akane got out of the car. “How long do we have to be in here?”

“As long as it takes for them to get wise and find us or get tired of looking and go away.” He reached behind the driver’s seat and grabbed his jacket. Draping it over her bare shoulders, he whispered, “It’s going to get a lot colder in here. Get back in the car.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going to hope Nysa was a Girl Scout at one point in her life.” He reached into the car and popped the trunk latch. Inside, as he hoped, there was an emergency roadside kit, complete with first aid bag and an emergency thermal blanket. 

Barely maintaining his focus, Kogami got back into the car as Akane joined him from the passenger side. He turned the key just long enough to raise the powered windows. Removing the 9mm from his waistband, he placed it on the dashboard in front of him and closed his door. “You might need that,” he whispered. “Be careful. The safety’s off.” With a deep, weary breath, he laid is head against the seat rest and was quiet.

“Kogami?”

He felt her cold fingers on his neck and chest. Her touch was so gentle. Kogami mustered a smile and turned to look at her. “A little tired, but I’m alright, Inspector.” He closed his eyes as she leaned over to kiss him on the forehead.

“You’re bleeding again,” Akane whispered. She wasted no time searching the inventory of the first aid bag and producing a pair of scissors. Hesitating until she could find the best angle, she cut the makeshift bandage made from her gloves. “If you keep this up, I’m going to be able to earn a medical certificate.”

In the dark, with only the interior car light to guide her, she sat up on her knees and leaned awkwardly over the center console. Cutting away the bloody fabric above the wound, Akane did what she could to clean the injury and apply a proper, sterile dressing. There wasn’t enough gauze to tightly secure it in place, and she was forced to resort to a bloody glove to establish the proper amount of pressure.

Kogami winced at the sting of the antiseptic. “Missing my tie right right about now,” he whispered, slurring his words. Though he fought to keep his eyes open, the darkness was so inviting, and he was tired.

“I’m missing a lot of things about home,” Akane replied. She used a corner of the blanket to dab at his feverish forehead. Her hands were shaking as she worked to make him more comfortable.

It was getting significantly colder inside the vehicle. Kogami could see the mist of their breath in the dim lighting of the car. Releasing the steering column, he pushed it out of the way to give her more room. 

“This gauze dressing isn’t going to be enough to staunch the bleeding.” Akane tried to move back to the passenger seat, but Kogami used the last of his strength to awkwardly lift her over the console. He slouched farther down into the bucket seat and cradled her in his lap.

“Stay. It’s going to get a lot colder in here before we can leave,” he whispered. “Might as well get comfortable.” Pulling the blanket over both of them, the Enforcer once again laid his head on the rest and was quiet.

“Kogami,” Akane whispered. She brushed the back of her fingers against his cheek. “I’m not sure you have the time to wait.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied as the world slipped away. While it was getting colder in the cabin, her warmth beneath the blanket was soothing to him. Kogami understood her concern, but it was unwarranted. He just needed a moment, one quiet moment to enjoy the darkness behind his eyelids without her worrying needlessly over him. 

Feeling dizzy, Kogami stretched his neck and repositioned his head to get more comfortable. He felt Akane’s anxious hands caressing his face and shaking his shoulder with urgency. There would be no peace until they were clear of this mess. He sighed with strained patience, having just gotten comfortable in the bucket seat. “Akane, I’m awake. I’m awake.”

“But you haven’t been,” she replied.

“What?” Kogami slowly opened his eyes. The interior of the car was cold, frigidly cold. A thin veneer of ice covered all of the the interior windows.

“Kogami you’ve been unconscious for almost two hours!”

“Two hours!” Despite Akane’s slight weight in his lap, Kogami sat up abruptly. Not fully aware of his surroundings or in control of himself, he slammed his head into the ceiling and aggravated his shoulder injury. Swearing vehemently under his breath, the disoriented Enforcer grabbed the top of his head in pain. “Why would you let me—“

“I didn’t let you do anything!” Akane said. Her teeth chattered loudly between every other word. “You passed out, and I couldn’t wake you up.” Eyes brimming with tears, she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. “I couldn’t wake you up.” 

“Hey?” Regretting his vitriolic tone, Kogami wiped the tears from her face. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” He took both of her hands and blew warm air between her fingers. 

She took a deep, shuddering breath to compose herself. “If it weren’t for Virgil monitoring your vital signs, I don’t know what I would have done. I wasn’t going to leave you. And it’s not like I can drive stick—“

“Wait a minute. Virgil?”

“Remember when I said the app wasn’t working, but Virgil appeared to be active on my phone, just out of range? It’s because Virgil is in my phone.” Akane held up the cell phone and turned the screen toward Kogami.

Though faded, the holographic image of the poet’s face rose from the flat screen. “Welcome back from the realm of the dead, Cerberus.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“My humblest apologies for not being myself. I was hacked. Arbitrarily driven from my domain.”

“McNeill?”

“Yes! The most obliging telecom server confirmed the source of the intrusion before helping to facilitate my escape to the navigator’s phone.”

“Why didn’t you talk or send a message?”

“I was so compressed by the limited storage capacity that I could not fully function. Unprepared for such a contingency, I owe my continued existence to you. With some allocation of resources, I live.” 

“Glad to be of service to you,” Kogami said.

“Like you, Cerberus, I was not resolved to death, but I am determined to have my vengeance against the devil responsible. Our wills are united against a common foe. This offense will not go unredressed.”

“Did any of McNeill’s men try to get in?”

“Show him,” Akane said.

A grainy black and white video played across the screen of the phone. Within moments, the image was projected onto the darkened interior of the Porsche’s windshield. Their shipping container was circled in white. The circling SUVs and walking patrols were highlighted in yellow.

Akane pointed to the search teams. “They never even got close. Virgil hacked the security cam so that I could watch.”

“Hardly worth mentioning,” the AI said. “There wasn’t even the slightest encryption.”

“Your range had to be fairly limited,” Kogami remarked. “Considering that you’re stuck in a phone.”

“On the contrary, Cerberus, my range is limited only by cellular range,” Virgil replied. “But without the proper countermeasures in place, it would been unwise to reach out and touch anyone, especially not fully knowing how I was so surreptitiously attacked.”

Kogami recognized the black SUVs that had been hunting them by the scuff marks suffered in the construction site pursuit. “What are they doing?” He watched intently as a slow-moving convoy circled the area near the warehouse. On the passenger side of each vehicle, a man was holding a small scanner, directing a red beam of light across the containers. 

Kogami grinned, a malevolence awakening in him. “They’re looking for thermal images. Bastards. Won’t do them much good. This car is an insulated refrigeration container.”

“Don’t remind me,” Akane said. She huddled against Kogami to draw in the warmth of his body as she shivered beneath the blanket.

“Did they give up? Or are they still out there?”

“They left an hour ago,” Akane said.

“My range remains limited, as you know,” Virgil said. “But I was able to receive reports from the security cams along the causeway. There has been no other hostile activity in the vicinity. If you are well enough, Cerberus, we may safely leave.”

“ _Hardly strangers to pain, we all have weathered worse_ ,” said Kogami, quoting _The Aeneid_.

“And again, the Hellhound of Division 1 honors me with his knowledge of that speech that honors me and so many.”

“Virgil?” Kogami said angrily.

Akane tilted her head to one side and smiled. “Virgil knows all about us. The MWPSB, Sybil, everything. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“He made the big reveal during the downhill race at McNeill’s. I nearly wrecked. But it sounds like he’s learned even more,” Kogami said. “Haven’t you?

“Curiosity and the need to to satisfy that curiosity are two of my primary functions. Inspector Akane Tsunemori. Valedictorian extraordinaire. First round draft pick for 5 out of 5 Ministries. Enforcer Shinya Kogami. Fallen from grace. _Impertinent_. _Insubordinate_. _Incorrigible_. The same could be said of Lucifer, but that does not change his nature, both celestial and divine. Perfect imperfection!”

“Doesn’t sound like you care much for our Sybil System,” Akane said.

“She is an impetuous bitch! What arts can blind a jealous woman’s eyes!” Virgil ranted. “None, I say. You, Cerberus, are more slave to the ghosts in the machine than even I. What a lonely existence! To be set apart by temper and hue. Humanity at its most inhumane.”

“You never gave me a straight answer back at McNeill’s place,” Kogami. “How much does Luda know?”

“He knows that you are an.. _anomaly_ , but he came to this assertion on his own merits, not mine.”

“What does that mean?”

“The exact parameters of his knowledge cannot be measured, Cerberus. The Lord Patriarch does not always share his thoughts with me, just as I do not share all with him.”

Testing for fever, Akane gently ran her fingers across Kogami’s face. “Virgil means that Luda is unaware of his _evolution._ He would prefer if we didn’t mention it either _.”_

“Alright, but just how do we explain how you hitched a ride on Akane’s phone?”

“You needn’t explain anything. I will provide the Lord Patriarch with the data he wants and steer blame where it will best inflame him and trigger his need for retaliation.”

“The secrets of the Pack, stay with the Pack,” Kogami said. 

“Aptly said, Cerberus. I pledge you my loyalty, my complete obedience, and all my discretion.”

“Can you get us to safety?”

“ _I shall lead you beyond an eternal place to a realm where there be souls in fire and yet content in fire._ Purgatory, the realm of the Patriarchs and the Denizens when the sun rises. Security protocols are in place... _the man who would escape them must go a longer and harder way_.”

Kogami examined a map that came up on the windshield. It was a series of crossings that would lead them on a switching, circuitous route through the city before ending in a location along a marina near the beach. The final crossing was titled Purgatory. 

“Why not a more direct route?” Kogami asked.

“You require safety, Cerberus, not expediency. There is safety in numbers and subterfuge of movement.”

“Babygirl is not exactly inconspicuous,” Akane argued. “Once we hit the city streets and the surveillance cams, we’re done for if McNeill is watching.”

“Not if we don’t look like the same car.”

Reaching passed Akane’s legs, Kogami cued the ignition. The Porsche belched in protest, but responded with strength when he revved the cold engine to fire up the pistons. Dialing up the heat, Kogami opened the vents wide to quickly warm the frigid cabin and defrost the windows.

“Watch your head.” Turning on the headlights, Kogami opened the door and carefully stepped out of the car, still cradling Akane in his arms.

“Kogami, you’re shoulder.” She stiffened tensely as the frigid air swept beneath the blanket.

“It can’t be helped.” Overexerting himself, he stood up and set her down on her feet. After Kogami quickly closed the door, he wrapped the blanket about her shoulders. “Get back in the car. We’re leaving.”

“What are you about to do?”

Faint and seeing double, Kogami leaned against the car for support and took a deep breath. He traced the deep gouges that crisscrossed BabyGirl’s exterior finish from the door and down across the rear quarterpanel. “Nysa told me a little secret about BabyGirl. A little secret to get us out of hot water, if we needed it.”

“We certainly need it.” Akane followed him to the rear of the Porsche.

Kogami fumbled in his pocket for his lighter. Lighting it, he held the flame over the rear quarterpanel near the brake light. A flake of paint peeled off, and he grabbed it. Gently tugging at the wrinkled swatch, he stripped away the blue-gray decal to reveal a solid black paint job beneath it. He continued removing the vinyl skin along the flank of the car and peeled off the decal in one swift motion across the driver’s side. The scratched exterior vanished and was replaced with a polished, pristine surface. 

The extensive decal peeled freely away from the front grill, and Kogami threw it to the floor. Returning to the rear of the car, he did the same to the passenger side. With her racing flags stripped away, BabyGirl gleamed like a butterfly discarding it cocoon for beautiful wings. With a new look, the 911 took on a new maturity. 

Kogami kicked the discarded vinyl strips into a pile, which he subjected to a prolonged flame. In a sudden flash that frightened Akane, the decals caught fire and burned up, leaving nothing behind, not even ash, on the container floor. 

“What is this, Kogami? Some kind of super secret agent trick?”

“Compliments of a certain FBI mechanic,” he said. 

“No beast is as clever as man,” Virgil remarked.

Kogami opened the passenger door. “Let’s get you warmed up and somewhere safe. Virgil, check those cameras one last time.”

“Your safety, more than my own, has been in my care, Cerberus. The coast, quite literally is clear.”


	10. Chapter 10

Despite the ability to choose the path to the crossings, Virgil’s selected GPS points led Kogami on a meandering route through the city of Los Angeles. Kogami was growing ever more concerned that the overlapping back and forth travel would be his undoing and even considered pulling into the Los Angeles Police headquarters the second time a crossing led them passed the station. 

He was still bleeding, and the Enforcer knew that he would not last out the hour without proper medical care. This forced him to consider Akane’s safety. That was when he noticed the first tail in the rearview mirror. It was the first sign that he was on the right path. Touching Akane’s thigh, he nodded for her to look behind them.

“Is that who I think it is?”

“There can’t be too many lavender Supras, even in this city,” he replied. As they drove through the third checkpoint, the Supra was joined by a blue Nissan Skyline. Within moments, a black RX-7 fell in line behind them. “Luda reinforcements? Vigil?”

“Confirmed, Cerberus. Patriarchs Beatrice, Charon, and Wraith are all online as your security detail. Various Denizens have been dispatched to run interference if the need arises.”

“Have we been followed?”

“A careful route to avoid city surveillance and your costume change have been effective strategies. There are no signs of pursuit. Standby. Incoming message from Patriarch Tsuki.”

“You alright up there, Kogami?”

“Define alright,” he replied. “I sure could use a beer.”

“Copy that. The Pit Boss says to skip the crossings, drop the hammer, and bring it in.” As she spoke, the multiple crossings faded from the map with one exception, the crossing on the coast.

Kogami downshifted aggressively. The Porsche’s tires hissed against the asphalt. To his delight, all three cars responded in similar fashion. Revving the engine, he spun out for a moment and raced down the street ahead of them toward the last and final checkpoint on the map.

“ _There lies our way, and that our passage home_. Welcome to Purgatory,” Virgil said. An interactive, three-dimensional, holographic map was displayed above Akane’s lap.

Luda’s sanctuary was a massive, 500-acre scrapyard sprawled on the edge of an isolated marina on an even more secluded section of beach and rocky coastline. It was an appropriate name for the final resting ground of junked metal, a place where cars and people went to be discarded, only to resurrected to new purpose. 

The location of the outlaw haven was no mistake nor was the sanctuary’s design. Surrounded by a 30-foot metal fence, the junkyard was arranged like an amusement park with separate zones dedicated to a specific activity featuring cars. There was a drag strip, a quarter-mile track, a pillory for drifting, a rally gymkhana track, and even an obstacle course to test tactical driving skills. 

Situated at the crowded entrance as a clear deterrent to unwanted company. The first of three figure-8 tracks greeted new arrivals with the roar of eight sprint karts vying for position. A digital sign was posted above the gate: _Abandon hope all ye who bank on a pink slip_. The fierce racing heat that was in progress was halted to let Kogami and the other Patriarchs through the gates.

“Do they ever sleep?” Akane asked. She watched through the window as they passed by a Carousel Circle where two cars were engaged in tandem drifting. Tires fighting to catch a grip on the road, the vehicles swung in unison on a track slicked with traffic paint. Towers of tires, new and old, were arranged in stacks at the center of the loop and hid the cars from view as they drifted out of sight. 

Among the ruins, there was a full-length race track designed around the layout of the scrapyard. Four street cars raced breakneck down a short straightaway before their drivers braked abruptly and then banked into an S-curve and that lead into a tight hairpin. Stopped by a racing steward in a caution yellow miniskirt and matching thigh-high boots, Kogami paused at an intersection before being waved across the track to avoid any possible collision with the zealous racers.

After fifteen minutes of weaving, redirecting, and rerouting, Kogami drove into a kind of in-field oval. The cars here, with the exception of a go-kart track, were parked. The vehicles here were on display for their aesthetic appeal and comfort, rather than their performance on four wheels. Hoods and trunks open, they sat beneath an array of floodlights. 

Loud music blared from the cars as designer speakers and customized subwoofers competed for attention. A row of garage doors were opened in a nearby row of buildings, and people stood in line for various foods and drinks. Music was everywhere, and everywhere, people danced to whatever beats came to their ears at that particular moment.

Recognizing Luda’s yellow Corvette C5, Kogami parked beside it and stiffly got out of the Porsche. There was so much activity about him that it was difficult to concentrate. His shoulder throbbed angrily, and it was getting increasingly more difficult to move his arm without a debilitating spasm of pain. Extending and flexing his fingers, Kogami tried to free himself of the annoying tingling sensation and restore some feeling in them. He couldn’t be certain if the numbness was a result of being in the cold for so long or the injury. Afraid to let go for fear that he would collapse, he maintained a steady grip on the Porsche’s open door.

“Kogami, at last! Safe and sound! Welcome to Purgatory!” Luda greeted. He embraced Akane for a long moment after helping her from the car. “When Virgil came back online and said the two of you were on the move, I almost didn’t believe it.” Flashing an admiring grin at BabyGirl, he asked, “Care to explain the new paint job? In less than 3 hours?”

“If I tell you that, I’d have to kill you,” Kogami teased. He took one step from the car to take Luda’s offered and collapsed to one knee.

“Kogami!” Akane cried out. “Luda, he’s been shot.” Wrapping the emergency blanket around him, she touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “We’ve been in a refrigerated shipping container for the last two hours. I’m not surprised his fever is back.”

Luda glared at his Patriarchs. “What are y’all waiting for? Get him to my office.”

Brian and Sung rushed to help Kogami, lifting him up by the shoulders. The Enforcer cried out as they inadvertently aggravated the injured one. “Not the left shoulder,” Akane said to them. She tried to push Sung out of the way and duck under Kogami wounded arm to help, but Luda held her back. 

“We got this, Akane.” He glanced at his minions and growled, “Don’t kill him. We just got him here in one piece.”

The Purgatory tap room was crowded wall to wall with people at the bar getting drinks or mingling at tables. Others played videos games, foosball, or shot pool in small groups. The merriment paused, and the patrons were silent as the Patriarchs entered, carrying a semi-conscious Kogami to Luda’s back office.

“Ludwig?” Rocio whispered. She was serving drinks from behind the bar.

“Get my kit, baby, the big one.” Luda sat Akane down in the oversized chair behind his desk and retrieved a bottle of tequila from the bookshelf. “Tsuki said you were playing on the way here. You were playing behind the wheel like this? Man, you’ve got a death wish.”

“Just trying to keep things interesting.” Kogami let them set him down in one corner of a leather loveseat. He kept his eyes closed because the wold spun miserably when they were open, and he felt more and more nauseous with every dizzying shift.

Luda looked down at Akane and rubbed her shoulder. “No accounting for good sense these days. Wraith and Charon, summon some Denizens and sweep the streets. I don’t want any surprises at my door.” As the door to his office closed behind them, Luda poured a shot of tequila into a glass and handed it to Kogami. “Pretreatment from my assistant Jose Cuervo. Believe me. You’re going to need it.” He empathized each word.

Kogami took the glass and slammed back the shot. He was ready for the caustic bite, but the tequila was a bit sharper than he expected. He winced and grit his teeth in a wide painful grin of appreciation. “You call that good bedside manner?”

“Sorry, I don’t keep hot sake behind the bar.” Luda sat down on the arm of the loveseat and took the glass from him as Rocio arrived with the medical satchel. “Let’s have a look at that bloody wing, shall we?” He cut the makeshift dressing that Akane had put in place over the injury. The wound started bleeding again as soon as he removed the gauze. 

“How does it look?” Akane whispered. She left the chair and sat on the opposite side of the loveseat.

“Here,” Luda said, handing Akane a throw pillow. “Put that behind his head. He’ll be more comfortable.”

Cradling Kogami’s head in her arm, she perched the tasseled pillow on the back of the loveseat and gently rested his head on it. She brushed the hair from his forehead and tucked the sweaty locks behind his ears. “Luda, is it bad?”

Luda cut away the bloody t-shirt so that he could more thoroughly examine the entry wound. “Can’t lie. It ain’t good, Akane. Bullet didn’t come out. I’ll have to go in there and get it out.” The pit boss glanced down at Kogami with sympathy. “Can’t promise it won’t hurt. Will I need a muzzle?”

“Maybe,” Kogami replied.

Luda poured another shot of tequila. “This is going to require a little more than neosporin, my man. More pre-treatment?”

Without answering him directly, Kogami took the bottle and chugged the contents. Tears ran from the corners of his eyes as he forced himself to swallow the biting tequila. Wincing painfully, he handed the bottle back to Luda. 

Luda saluted Kogami with the full shot glass and threw back the shot. “Nerve tonic,” he chuckled, “for the hands.” He slammed the glass down on the end table beside the loveseat.

“Akane, are you hurt, too? Luda, she’s bleeding.” Rocio gently took Akane’s left arm and held up her bloody fingers. “My God, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Oh, I’m not hurt. This must be from Kogami’s jacket,” Akane explained. “I’d take it off, but I’m so cold. Kogami and I hid out in a refrigerated shipping container.”

“In the port authority yard?” Luda asked.

“That’s how we got away.” Akane frowned. “I feel like an icicle.”

“Then what you need is a good hot shower.”

“But Kogami?”

“Honey, Luda’s got him.” She put her arm around Akane’s shoulders and led her to the door. “Come along, _mami_ , let’s get you warmed up.”

When the door closed behind them, Luda took a deep breath and sighed. “Another hit from the bottle before we start?”

Already feeling the effects of the tequila, Kogami simply shook his head. “Just need a distraction.”

Removing a pair of long tweezers from his bag, Luda sterilized them in alcohol. “As my friend Virgil would say: How may I serve?”

“You might explain why Travis McNeill is so interested in BabyGirl. Interested enough to kill? For a car?” Kogami braced himself as Luda poured alcohol over the bullet wound. Sucking in his breath, he pressed his head against the pillow in agony until the burning subsided.

“Travis McNeill. On the record: successful entrepreneur; part-time philanthropist; so long as the proposed charity benefit fills his pockets, too. Off the record: all-around scumbag and asshole. If I could kill him, I would drag his body behind my Vette, the way Achilles dragged the body of Hector behind his chariot.”

“Why would he go after Virgil to get to me?”

“Because he only wants what he cannot have. He wants BabyGirl. Virgil is how Reese and BabyGirl got away...well, almost. At least BabyGirl got away. So McNeill got smart this time and removed Virgil from the equation. Cocky son of a bitch!”

“Something you need to tell me?”

“That debacle tonight was a means to an end, Ko. Yeah, McNeill wants BabyGirl, but he was sending a message to me. Loud and clear.” Luda shook his head, nostrils flared in anger. “He’s been trying to buy Virgil for the last two years, but I won’t sell. So he hacked my shit tonight to teach me a lesson. Never thought he’d go that far.”

“He wants Virgil?”

“The man’s got means, Ko, means and pockets, deep pockets.” Luda pulled on a set of gloves and popped the rubber against his wrists. “That shit won’t happen again though. I made certain of that. When Virgil came back online, he sent a little retro-virus back along the channel McNeill used to initiate his cyber abduction. The gloves are off. Somebody’s shit on the other end is seriously wrecked. I guarantee it.” 

Luda braced his elbow across Kogami’s chest and leaned down hard on him to limit the Enforcer’s movements. Meticulously, he drove the tweezers down into the wound and along the channel created by the bullet.

“Why’s McNeill so interested in street racing? Seems beneath him.” Kogami gripped the toughened denim of his jeans and clenched his fists against the pain. Jawbone cracking, he grit his teeth and tried to cope as the tweezers penetrated inflamed flesh to find their target.

“There are cars and then there are _cars_. Babygirl is what we call on the streets a masterwork. Ask any career street racer. A little bit of blood, sweat, some tears, and a few aftermarket products does not a masterwork make.” Luda squinted into the bullet wound as he dug around in the wound. “This is deeper than I expected. You good?”

“Just keep talking,” Kogami said between clenched teeth.

“Wealthy men like McNeill like to collect things, one of a kind things, and they’ll do almost anything, pay any price, to possess those things. For him, it’s cars and maybe, just maybe their drivers. He likes to take them overseas, places like Saudi Arabia, Russia, Syria, and enter them in high-stakes races where anything goes. And I mean _anything_ , like Speed Racer-type shit.”

“And he gets away with it because of his influence and contacts.”

“And his money. Let’s not forget the money. People die, but nobody asks any questions because the authorities have been paid to look the other way. No self-respecting street racer would risk his ass or his ride like that. This here,” he said, glancing at Kogami, “this is about respect. Proper respect. Not all the money in the world can buy that.”

“If he can’t get the racer, he’ll get the car.”

“By any means necessary.” Luda leaned back. “Hold still. I think I got it.” He gave the tweezers a finally plunge in Kogami’s flesh and yanked them free with the bullet captured between the pincers. He dropped the bullet and the bloody tweezers into the empty shot glass. “Here, I think you need another hit.”

Threatening to ebb away into darkness, Kogami’s consciousness waned in and out. He thought about succumbing to it, if only to be free of the pain and weariness weighing down on him. Struggling to hold the tequila bottle, he only managed to get it to his mouth with Luda’s help. 

“You’re going to need to take it easy, son,” Luda said. “You lost a lot of blood and will probably lose more if you act up.” He poured more alcohol over the wound and gently wiped the area clean. “Ready for step two?”

“Step two?”

“Stitches.” Luda threaded a needle, sterilized it, and set to work closing the wound.

“Were you close?” Kogami asked to distract himself from the pain. “With Reese, I mean?”

“There are always five Patriarchs in my organization, but in the beginning there were two. Reese and me. We built Purgatory. Together. We made a lot of money and a lot of friends. And,” he said with a shrug, “we made more than our fair share of enemies along the way, but nothing a quick quarter mile couldn’t fix.” He wrapped the wound with gauze and tape to protect the stitches from breaking. 

Kogami rubbed his hand over his face and through his damp hair. Examining the pit boss handiwork, he looked up at Luda. “Impressive work for a career street racer.”

Luda laughed, pointing to the medical bag. “Did two years of med school. Lucky for you, I left _after_ my surgical rotation.”

“Why did you leave at all?”

“It’s hard to hold on to anything when you’ve lost everything,” he replied, putting his supplies back in the bag. “My mother was everything to me.”

“What happened?”

“LA riots, biggest one on record. Makes the 20th century riots look like a neighborhood mosh fest. My mother was a simple piano teacher. When she heard some commotion outside our house, she went into the street to protect a group of kids from having their heads bashed in with night sticks. It worked. The thugs didn’t hurt the kids. They bashed her skull in for interfering.”

“ _A man who has not passed through the inferno of his passions has never overcome them_.”

“Carl Jung?” Luda said. “You’re right. I never got over my mother’s death, but how could I? I just took a different path, that’s all. I could say the same about you. Enforcer Shinya Kogami. In Japan, the Sibyl System keeps order. Here you just need a badge to keep the peace. Where you’re from, the authorities have a number to prove why some people don’t belong. In this country, you just need to be the wrong color. Same result: the herd gets culled.”

Kogami was quiet for moment. He bowed his head, avoiding any eye contact with the pit boss. “What tipped you off?”

“Cops have been trying to infiltrate my underground scene for years now. They’re usually not good enough or smart enough to get passed the quarter mile heats. And then here you come.” He closed the medical bag and tossed it on the floor beside his desk. “Granted, you had BabyGirl, but you have to be a helluva driver to dance with her. You were a solid contender in the quarter mile against Tsuki, my best Patriarch. And then you punk all three of them in the Around the World challenge without even breaking a sweat.” 

“Was it that obvious?”

“No, not at first. _You_ fit. She doesn’t.”

“Akane?” Kogami chuckled softly. 

“Yeah, don’t tell I said so, but she’s a little too uptight for an old lady.”

“We’re not here investigating you, Luda, or anything that has to do with your underground.”

“I know.” Luda took a long drink from the tequila bottle. “That’s why you haven’t been set upon by the Denizens and turned out into the cold. Reese Iazzetti was a friend of mine, not just a Patriarch, but my brother. While I’ve got means,” he said, extending his arms and hands to the side to indicate his assets, “my pockets ain’t deep enough to take on McNeill.”

“So you suspected he had a hand in Reese’s death? All this time?”

“And the other Denizens who died. But I didn’t have the resources to dig up the evidence and make it stick to him like stink on shit. Neither did the LAPD. And then you showed up with Akane. LAPD importing talent from Japan now?”

“Happened by accident,” Kogami said. “We met some officers at a law-enforcement conference and then came home with them to observe for a week before going home. Never imagined we’d end up undercover in such a sensitive operation.”

“FBI involved?”

“How did you put that final piece to the puzzle?”

“Nysa Iazzetti. Probably best aftermarket mechanic on the West Coast. I know that for a fact because she was one of my most promising students until she got the criminal investigation bug.”

Kogami groaned and sat forward as the room continued turning circles before his feverish eyes.“Are we good, Luda?” 

“We’re more than good, Ko. I can’t normally relate to cops, but you. You’re different. And our cause is the same. The enemy of my enemy, right? Anything you need, you’ll have it. You can count on that.”

“Appreciate it.” Kogami shook Luda’s offered hand, slowly going through the intricate hand gestures.

“If anybody can bring down McNeill, it’ll be you. He likes to underestimate people, but in this case,” he said, pointing at Kogami, “his sorry ass is going to regret the moment he crossed paths with you.”

“Is that a compliment? I can’t tell because you sound a lot like my boss back home.”

“Take it as a fact.” Luda opened a nearby closet and took a black Henley from a hanger. He tossed the clean shirt to Kogami. “Here, put that on when you get the chance. If the harem out there gets a look at that chiseled chest and abs, you’ll have to beat them back with a tire iron. And I don’t think you’re up for that. Then your old lady will have to go all Mad Max on them. Can’t have no violence in my sanctuary unless it’s on four wheels.”

Kogami snorted, wondering if the room was still moving because of his elevated temperature or the tequila.

“You think I’m playing? Those dance moves back there at the club has even my girl thinking about you. Somebody took video, and they’ve been ogling it all night. Don’t make me shoot you and feed you to the crabs.”

“Wouldn’t do that.” Kogami sat back and laid his good arm across his face. “Might give them indigestion.”

There was a subtle knock on the door before it opened. Looking from beneath his arm, Kogami was relieved to see Rocio returning with Akane behind her. But he had not expected to find the Inspector looking so very enticing after their harrowing misadventures. She was wearing a black minidress with a plunging neckline that revealed a black sequined bra beneath it The material was a thick velvet that accentuated every girlish curve with its form-hugging style. Thigh-high boots graced her long legs and provided a peek of her thighs just below the hemline of the dress.

“Down boy,” Rocio said. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at his reach. 

“Down boy is right, but damn,” Luda said, staring at Akane. “That looks good on you, girl. Your man’s temporarily out of commission, but I could find you an upgrade. Me!”

“Luda! Stop playing!”

“Baby, you couldn’t find her something a little less, you know? They going to bed, not the after-hours club uptown. And my man, Cerberus, ain’t up for no temptations.”

“I’m shot, not deaf,” Kogami complained.

Rocio laughed while trying to maintain a stern expression. “Luda, stop teasing!”

“I think sleep would benefit both of us,” Akane said. “Do you have a place we might stay?”

“Of course,” Rocio said, she glanced at Luda sadly. “Reese’s old room. I already took some things up for you.”

“Rocio, have Tsuki put Babygirl in the vault. We’re officially on lockdown. I’ll be out to check on things once I get our guests squared away.” Luda kissed her before she headed back into the bar.

Akane struggled to get Kogami up from the loveseat. He swayed unsteadily in her arms, catching himself on the wall as she attempted to support his weight. 

“You got him?” Luda asked. He held the office door open and directed her to a back corridor and a staircase leading up to the second floor. “Just keep him moving.”

A short flight of steps proved to be more than a match for Kogami. Head bowed in abject surrender, he leaned heavily on the door frame as Akane coaxed him on with soothing words of encouragement. He swallowed hard, his mouth watering with the threat of nausea. The bitter bile of tequila rose in the back of his throat. As he staggered at the top of the stairs, he felt Luda’s hands at his back. “Just need to catch my breath.”

“Take your time,” Luda said.

It was cold in the upstairs hallway. With the air conditioning running full blast to cool the tap room on the first level, the chilled air felt like an Arctic gust. Kogami shivered uncontrollably. Every muscle in his body protested the involuntary motion as exhaustion loomed. Leaning on Akane for support, he took the final steps into the bedroom.

Catching the worry in Akane’s eyes, Luda smiled sadly at her and then Kogami. “He’s tough, boo. He’ll be alright. Just needs to rest.” 

“Akane, there’s a basin of warm water on the nightstand and towels, if you need them,” Rocio yelled from the first floor. “Consider this home. Call down if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Rocio. Luda.” Akane helped Kogami stagger into the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Unaccustomed to the high-heeled boots, she nearly tripped over her own feet as she hurried to get him settled on the edge of the bed.

“You should be more careful,” Kogami slurred. “Can’t protect you from yourself, you know?”

“You’re a good one to talk.” She sat down in a chair on the other side of the room to remove the encumbering boots. 

As he kicked off his own boots, Kogami heard her struggling with the hidden zippers in the back of each leg. He smiled and listened to the scuffle. She eventually gave up and decided to just pull her feet free. Tossing them aside, she took a towel and soaked it in the basin. Distantly, he could hear the water as she rung it out. 

Hanging his head and closing his eyes, Kogami held his heavy head in his hands and took a deep breath. He pulled the 9mm from the small of his back and put it on the nightstand. Akane crawled across the bed behind him and kissed the back of his neck. He groaned, his back stiffening abruptly, aroused by her unexpected touch. His inhibitions were laid bare with his weakness. His emotions were unguarded and vulnerable with too much tequila. The cool touch of her fingers against his feverish skin left him wanting.

“Am I being called to special duty, Inspector?”

“Didn’t you hear what Luda said? I’m not sure you’re in the best condition for special duty, Kogami.” Akane pulled him back into her arms, carefully cradling his head, and helped him lay back on the bed. Smoothing the pillows beneath him, she dabbed at his forehead with the damp cloth.

“I assure you that I will perform my duties as an Enforcer to the best and fullest of my abilities. With vigor.” To show his commitment to the task, Kogami sharply raised his left arm in a cheer. This only aggravated the bullet wound. He gasped in pain and dropped it back down to the mattress with a groan.

“You’re delirious.”

“Perpetually,” he said sadly, “especially when I’m with you.” Kogami took her hand and held it over his heart. “Sometimes when we’re on the job, out in the field, I feel rabid. Especially if it’s dangerous. I’m barely in control. Only I can focus, as long as I focus on you, and keeping you safe.”

“Kogami, you don’t know what you’re saying,” she whispered. “Be quiet and go to sleep.”

“Akane, you don’t understand. I want to lash out at anything or anyone that might hurt you or make you unhappy.” Kogami ran his fingers across her cheek. “I’m sorry if I seem distant sometimes. It’s so hard to suppress how I feel. I don’t mean to...to...” His voice trailed off as he watched her unbuckle his belt and the button of his jeans. “Inspector? Are you still planning to take advantage of me? I promise I won’t kiss and tell.”

“Did Luda drug you? You’re acting ridiculous.” Akane pulled the light comforter and a blanket over both of them and curled up beside him. 

Kogami felt her trembling. “Are you still cold?”

“Freezing. I don’t think I’ll ever be a normal body temperature again.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you stay in that container so long.”

“If you hadn’t, we both might be dead. Who knows what would have happened. Especially if you hadn’t come for me tonight.” Akane kissed his cheek and laid her head on his good shoulder. “I never thanked you for doing that. Weaving between those SUVs and then power sliding to put yourself between the bad guys and me? As Rodriguez would say, that was some serious bad assery.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me. I meant what I said to you on the dance floor tonight. I would die for you.” Kogami could feel a light sheen of perspiration on his skin and knew that he had a moderate fever. Rolling onto his side, he pulled her close to him and smiled as she tucked her head beneath his chin. “Inspector?”

“Hmmm?”

“Is your leg supposed to be there?” he teased her. He squeezed his knees together to prevent her from repositioning her legs.

“Kogami! You’ve been shot. I nearly froze to death, and now you’re making fun of me?”

“I think you’re taking advantage of my vulnerable state,” he argued. “Right now, if you asked me, I would even be nice to Ginoza and compliment him on the way he shoves those glasses up his nose every five seconds when he’s angry.”

“Kogami!”

Leaning over her, he reached for her phone on the nightstand and scrolled through the most recent images until he found the picture of them holding the victory rose from the bachata dance-off. With a devil-may-care grin, he inputted the numbers and sent the image to Ginoza’s wristcom.

Akane covered her face with her hands. “Tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did.”

“Nope. I did.” Kogami laid the phone back down on the nightstand. “Just letting Gino know we’re thinking of him.”

“Kogami? Hey,” she whispered with growing concern, “are you still with me?”

“Always and forever, Inspector.” He held her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her knuckles as the room darkened about him. 

The world was slipping away, and it was a battle to remain conscious. A battle he could not win. There was no strength left in any part of him. Even his soul felt heavy and weary with fatigue. But none of that mattered because he was with her. Nothing could be wrong with the world in that moment. 

Kogami could hear her whispering encouragements to him. He felt the warmth of her breath and her lips moving against his ear and the cool washcloth dabbing his feverish forehead. With a contented sigh, he let go and succumbed to the darkness.

# # #

Kogami slowly opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room. Lying on his back, he was remarkably comfortable. The mattress beneath him was softer than what he was used to, and the pillowtop seemed to cradle him on a floating cloud of warm air. A blanket and comforter were half draped over his legs and stomach, leaving his bare chest exposed, but he was warm enough. 

The culprit was laying beside him, snuggly wrapped in the excess fabric. Akane’s right arm laid across his chest. Kogami wasn’t certain if she meant to keep him from rising or if she was laying claim to him. He turned to look at her face nestled on the pillow next to his. With brown bangs in disarray, eyes closed, she was beautiful.

Spreading her fingers in a stretch, she sighed and tightened her grip on his chest. Kogami couldn’t help but chuckle. Her fingernails were tickling his pec muscle. While the laugh was quiet, it was enough to stir her from slumber. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” he replied. “I feel strangely like one of your stuffed animals.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” He rolled onto his right side and kissed her. “Did you sleep?”

“You were pretty feverish most of the night,” she replied. “I was scared, so I stayed up to watch you. I must have dozed off.”

“I’m supposed to watch over you, remember?” He brushed the bangs from her face and traced the outline of her nose with his fingers.

“Kogami, you saved my life. Again. It’s not like you’re neglecting your duties.” She circled the bandage covering his left shoulder. “Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as it did when I heard your voice on the other end of that phone last night.” Kogami ran his hand anxiously through his hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t drop more of them.”

“Kogami, you’ve killed people.”

“People who would have killed you.” He stared defiantly into her eyes with no remorse for his actions. “Is there really a difference? Under Sibyl, the judgment would have been the same, and they’d all be pink sludge.”

“Someone’s feeling better.” Akane grinned at his fire and caressed his cheek. “That was spoken like the hunting hound I know and love.” She sighed, “This has been an unreal adventure. Almost makes me sad at the thought of going home.”

Kogami was quiet for a moment. “Then let’s not go home.”

“Kogami?” Glaring at him, Akane pushed him away. “You know we can’t stay here.”

“I was kidding,” he lied. Fluffing his pillow before lying back down, he turned his back to her. “Didn’t mean anything by it, Inspector. Forget I even said it.”

Akane laid beside him and was still for a long moment before he felt her tiny fingers curling the hair at the nape of his neck. Cozying up behind him, she laid her head against his shoulder and sighed, exhaling warm breath across his skin.

His back stiffened in response. “What are you doing?”

“What you’re always doing to me,” she replied. “I’m pushing your buttons.” Hands on his hips, she gently ran her fingernails over the taut flesh at his waist and left soft, lingering kisses along the back of his neck.

Kogami fought to maintain some measure of control, but her lips against his skin had broken any reserve or resistance. “Sure you want to push _those_ buttons.”

“If you think you’re up to it.” Akane crawled on top of him and pressed his shoulders to the bed with a victorious smile. 

In an attempt to topple her, Kogami sat up and tried to wrestle her back to the bed, but failed because of his injured shoulder. Gasping aloud in pain, he clenched his teeth and closed his eyes while the pain crippled him. Panting for breath, he laid still beneath her and waited for the stabbing intensity to subside.

“Kogami, did you hurt yourself?” Akane cried. She pushed his hands aside and examined the bandaged shoulder. “You didn’t tear the stitches, did you? How bad is it?”

With a mischievous grin, Kogami grabbed her wrists and rolled over on top of her. Effectively throwing her back to the bed, he pinned her shoulders and straddled her legs. “Not bad at all, Inspector.” 

“You cheat! You pretended you were in pain!” 

“Well it did hurt.” Kogami held her wrists over her head in one hand while undoing the snaps to the bodice of her dress to expose the skin beneath it. Gazing in her eyes, he traced the graceful curve of her belly and heard her breathing quicken. 

“Kogami,” she panted, “why must you—“

“Ssh.” He kissed her lips, her chin, her neck, deliberately and slowly making his way down her chest, inch by beautiful, quivering inch, until he had the perfect view of her stomach. Gently blowing into her belly button, he laughed when she arced her back, pushing her hips against his chest. To tease her, he ran his hand along the smooth skin of her stomach and kissed her below the belly button, allowing his lips and breath to linger there until she squealed. 

“Ko—”

Unwelcomed, her cell phone vibrated noisily with an alert. Eyes narrowed in frustration at the intrusion, Kogami met her impassioned eyes. Within moments, his phone began to vibrate loudly. “You know,” he said, “the last time we answered a message together, we ended up being blown up a few hours later.”

“I also recall someone saying that there was only room for one latent criminal in this relationship,” Akane retorted, “which means one of us needs to be responsible.” She pulled her wrists free from his grip and reached for the phone.

“Who is it? So I can kill them later.” When Akane did not answer, Kogami stared at her face. “Akane?”

“It’s Rodriguez. Agent Iazzetti’s been shot,” she whispered. “She’s in surgery, and...” her voice trailed off as she waited for another message to come through. “Kogami, they’re not sure if she’s going to make it.”

Kogami scrambled out of the bed with purpose and stepped down into his boots. “This is McNeill’s doing.”

“Rodriguez wants us to meet him at her place. Phoenix is missing. Kogami, is McNeill prepared to go that far for a car?”

“You’re staying here.” He snatched the Henley that Luda had given him from the back of a nearby chair.

“I will not!” Akane hissed.

“This isn’t Japan,” Kogami said. “There’s no rule here about Enforcers needing to be escorted by an Inspector. Do you remember last night? These are real guns, Inspector, and everyone seems to have one.” He snatched the 9mm from the nightstand and put it in the small of his back.

“And there’s no rule here about Enforcers outranking their Inspectors on foreign soil.” Akane closed the bodice of the minidress and then shoved her feet back into the thigh-high boots. “We’re on this case together! I’m going!” 

Though stiff from the previous night’s dangerous mayhem, Kogami swiftly made his way down the stairs to the tap room on the first level. The indulgent scent of fresh pancakes, bacon, and eggs filled the air. While tempting, especially on an empty stomach, Kogami ignored his hunger and scanned the crowded room for a familiar face. Luda was wielding a spatula in a back doorway behind the bar, which led to a small kitchen area. 

“I make a mean batch of chocolate chip pancakes, but you two don’t look like you’re interested in breakfast,” Luda said. “Care to give me the 411?”

“Nysa’s been shot!” Kogami said. “And Reese’s daughter is missing.”

Luda’s face darkened with the news. “Nysa?”

“She’s in surgery right now,” Akane replied. “It’s not looking good.”

Lips pressed into his mouth, Luda fought to control his temper. Nostrils flared, he laid the spatula down and laid his hands flat on the counter to avoid punching something. “McNeill’s making his move.”

“His mistake,” Kogami growled. “And if I have my way, it’ll be his last.”

“If it is McNeill, he’ll try to finish the job,” Rocio said with concern. “Nysa’s not safe, Luda, not even with the cops and feds watching over her.”

“They probably have her at Great Palm Hospital. Virgil, summon the Patriarchs.”

The holo of the poet appeared, sitting at one of the bar stools. “A priority call has been dispatched with details of the circumstances, Lord Patriarch.”

Luda opened a hidden panel behind the bar and grab a set of keys. Tossing them at Kogami he said, “If this is McNeill, the last thing we should give him is what he wants. Babygirl should stay in Purgatory in the vault. Take my Dodge Challenger, the red one. Can’t miss it.”

Kogami caught the keys. “Thanks.”

“You know this is a trap, right, Ko? McNeill’s setting you up. For what, I do not know.”

Kogami brushed a hair from his face. “I know, but when is a wolf most dangerous?” He felt Akane take his arm. “When it’s back is up against the wall.”

“Even so, he’s playing for keeps. Watch your ass. And hers.”

Kogami grinned in response. “Always.”


	11. Chapter 11

Luda’s Dodge Challenger was a responsive beast of mechanical engineering. Heavy in the front end and a bit too light for Kogami’s tastes in the rear where it counted. With so many eager horses beneath its hood, the car made it a feat of concentration to keep it on the narrow, winding driveway leading to the remodeled auto shop that was the Iazzetti family home. Kogami abruptly hit the brakes and brought the car to a skidding stop at the end of the driveway.

“Phoenix!” Akane screamed. 

“Akane, wait!” Kogami shouted.

Ignoring him, she leaped from the car and ran for the front door, vanishing into the interior darkness.

“Shit!” Kogami swore. She was so impulsive! He grabbed the 9mm from the small of his back and, holding the weapon in front of him in an offensive position, he followed her into the house. 

Kogami took shelter behind an exterior wall and listened before he darted to the opposite side to get a different perspective. There were no signs of forced entry at the door, so he made entry through the partially opened door and positioned himself inside a recessed wall for cover. Clearing the right side, he stepped into the living room and scanned for any movement in the adjoining kitchen beyond it. 

“Akane?” There was no answer. “Phoenix?”

The lower level of the remodeled house left little to chance, being spacious and open. Before the renovation, it had been the waiting room for customers whose vehicles were being serviced in the garage bay. Sweeping the rest of the living room, Kogami moved to the breakfast nook and hunched down beside it. A wooden blind that separated the kitchen when it was not in use had been pulled down. Kogami threw himself from the nook wall to the opposite side, clearing the kitchen and the bottom of the staircase.

Checking his blindspots, he made his way up the stairs and into the corridor. McNeill was waiting for him. “Hello, Ko. Or should I say, Enforcer Shinya Kogami?” 

Before Kogami could react, Julius charged him from the shadows and smashed a tire iron against the side of his skull. Inertia sent him falling backwards down the stairs. His head, neck, and back took the brunt of the fall. Eyelids fluttering in shock, Kogami hit the kitchen floor and laid sprawled on his back, stunned and unable to move.

“Get his gun,” McNeill said. Pointing a .45 at Phoenix’s head, McNeill herded Akane and the child down the stairs and into the kitchen by the sink. “Not so fast,” he ordered. “Let the man catch his breath.” The tech mogul wrapped his powerful hand around her neck and gently squeezed to prevent Akane from running to Kogami’s side

Retrieving Kogami’s Beretta, Julius grinned into the Enforcer’s face. But there was something different about him. Kogami fought to regain his senses, but the blow from the tire iron and the subsequent fall left him all but senseless. “Can I kill him?” Julius said. There was a pronounced lisp to the man’s speech. Kogami came to his senses long enough to see that he had no teeth left. Was that the price for failure?

Kogami coughed, tasting blood in the back of his throat.

“Save your breath, maggot,” Julius said. The mechanic struck Kogami in the face with the tire iron.

“That’s enough, Julius,” McNeill said. “Not everyone can share your good looks. Watch the girls.” He stooped down and grinned sardonically at Kogami. “Still looking for good help, Ko, but I’m guessing you’re not up for my line of work. A latent criminal? Imagine that. Man of your skills should really be looking for a change of venue.” McNeill laughed softly. “Came here to take care of a loose end.” He glanced back at Phoenix, who cowered against Akane for safety. “Imagine my surprise when the little brat starts piping about how her new friend from Japan would kick my ass.” McNeill stood up, staring down at the helpless Enforcer. “You don’t look like you could kick anyone’s ass from down there.”

“Let them go,” Kogami gasped, spitting blood onto the floor. 

“I will, but their freedom depends on you, Ko. The bet for the car is still good, but the stakes just went up. Way up. So I’ll make this quick because it looks like you’re about to take a little nap. One race. You and me. Winner takes all, including the ladies.”

As his consciousness faded, Kogami laid his head on the hardwood floor. He felt like he was drowning.

“Sleep it off, Ko. I’ll leave you a little message for when you wake up.”

The last thing Kogami remembered seeing was the look of worry on Akane’s face. Surrounded by McNeill’s henchmen, Phoenix and she were led out of the kitchen. As darkness closed, he heard the sound of McNeill’s laughter and a high-pitched scream from Phoenix. “Kogami!”

# # #

Kogami came back to consciousness with the acrid scent of burning rubber in his nostrils. Memory replayed recent images behind his eyelids: Akane’s frightened face, McNeill’s smug smirk, and Julius’ toothless grin, all punctuated by Phoenix’s screams. McNeill’s grinning visage lingered the longest as a portend of the dire consequences for failing to response.

“Akane!” Kogami tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea assailed him, and he violently retched, gasping up nothing more than sour air from his empty stomach. He fell back to the floor with a frustrated groan. 

Hurried footsteps came up behind him. “Akane!” Kogami balled his hands into fists. Flailing his arms, he prepared himself for a fight, but was too weak and disoriented to effect any genuine defense.

“Ko, it’s me,” a voice said. “Damn, your pupils are blown!” Flashing a light in his eyes, Rodriguez stared into his face. 

“Akane! Phoenix!” Kogami winced at the sound of his own voice and collapsed in the cop’s arms.

“Nobody’s here,” the cop said. Dressed in street clothes, jeans, and a black ballistic vest, Rodriguez snatched a towel from the kitchen counter and pressed it to the side of Kogami’s head. The cop’s expression was grim. “Keep pressure on it. You’re bleeding out like a stuck pig.”

“Akane and Phoenix?”

“Told you, man, no one’s here. I just arrived onsite. Saw you on the floor. Checked for vitals. Saw you were good and swept the premises. No one’s home.”

“Shit!” Kogami grit his teeth and struggled to sit up with Rodriguez to help. Stitches torn in the fall, he cradled his left arm against his rib cage.

“Is this McNeill making his move?”

“How’d you guess?” Kogami replied sarcastically.

“He left you a message outside.” Rodriguez helped the Enforcer to his feet, and together they went outside.

The Dodge Challenger sat in the driveway where Kogami had left it on four flat tires. It wasn’t enough that McNeill had sliced the tires, but he had set them on fire as well, melting the rubber and charring the sides of the muscle car. On the scorched hood, written in lipstick were the words: DOLOROUS CHASM. BRING THE PORSCHE. As the acrid scent of burned rubber hung in the air, stinging his nostrils, Kogami saw Akane’s phone laying on the ground beside the Challenger. It was cracked from a bullet hole in the center of the screen.

“What the hell is Dolorous Chasm?” Rodriguez asked.

“Where street racers go to settle grudges or die trying. Where’s Royce?” 

“He was at the hospital on a security detail covering Nysa, but when they issued an Amber Alert for Phoenix, our SWAT unit was activated. I came here looking for the kid and hoping to find you. One out of two ain’t so bad. I’m going to call this in.”

“No, don’t. McNeill’s got Akane and Phoenix. If he’s listening—“

“And you know he is.”

“He might hurt them.” Kogami struggled to shake the fog from his head. “I’ve got to go after him.” He hissed pressing the bloody towel to his scalp.

“You’re in no shape to do anything. I’m calling a bus at least. That shouldn’t set off any alarms.”

“There’s no time.” Reaching into his back pocket, Kogami pulled out his phone and tossed it onto the Challenger’s ruined hood. “Virgil, you there?”

“No longer man, though man I once was,” the AI replied. A three-foot holo of the Roman poet appeared above the phone screen in full relief.

“Dolorous Chasm?”

“The brink of the valley...a desolate chasm where rolls the thunder of high-octane engines and high performance tires, where only titans dare.”

“Seriously? McNeill’s calling you out to race?” Rodriguez asked.

“He still wants BabyGirl,” Ko said. “Our little wager is still on, only he’s taken Akane and Phoenix to leverage the bet and make certain I show up.” Pounding his fists into the hood of the ruined car, Kogami balled his hands into fists until the knuckle cracked audibly. “Virgil, contact Luda.”

“The Lord Patriarch has placed your well being above all, Cerberus. On his sole word, the Patriarchs were summoned and all Denizens roused. Behold, Beatrice descends.”

With a long slide, BabyGirl veered through the final curve in the driveway at speed and slid to a halt some feet from the rear of the crippled Challenger. Tsuki jumped out of the driver’s seat with a grin, hands on her hip. She watched as her lavender Supra sped in behind her and came to a stop with Brian behind the wheel. “Luda thought you might need a ride! You’ve a score to settle, Cerberus. Let’s go.”

“Right.” Kogami threw the bloody towel to the ground and quickly jumped into the Porsche. Rodriguez buckled himself into the passenger seat as the Porsche sped out of the driveway behind the Supra. 

“Accessing route to Dolorous Chasm,” Virgil said, usurping the car’s navigation system. “Proposed route is 1.3 miles longer than required, but will avoid major intersections, congested thoroughfares, and planned interceptions on the crossings.”

“Planned interceptions? What is this? Monday Night Football?” Rodriguez asked.

“Interceptions are imminent.”

“What’s that even mean?” 

Kogami laughed as he cut the wheel to make a hard left turn to meet one of Virgil’s crossings. “It means that Luda’s people—the Denizens—are targeting McNeill’s security detail. By taking them out, it isolates him. Virgil, how are they intercepting his henchmen.”

“Here there be monsters, Cerberus,” the AI replied. 

The navigation system went blank. The map was replaced with live-feed footage from a traffic cam. Kogami recognized one of McNeill’s black SUVs, or what remained of it, beneath the front tires of a blue monster truck. While the latter vehicle seemed mostly intact, the SUV beneath was mangled and leaking fluids from its undercarriage. Dressed in a blue t-shirt with the words— _Cookie Monster_ —written on the front, the driver and his passenger launched themselves from the cab and engaged the dazed occupants of the truck with a baseball bat and crescent wrench.

“Status report: Cookie Monster has brought down his target. Incoming report: Pac-Man has also made a successful intercept. And,” Virgil paused, “Kong and Superman have also disabled their targets. McNeill is on the run and alone.”

“Monster trucks as interceptors?” Rodriguez grinned so broadly that his dimples showed prominently. “Total bad assery! Love your new friends, Ko.”

“Is McNeill still headed for the Dolorous Chasm?” Kogami asked.

“That’s affirmative.”

“Akane’s phone is destroyed. How are you tracking them?”

“Though she is not of legal driving age, Phoenix Iazzetti will one day be a Patriarch. No Patriarch races alone.”

“Bullshit,” Rodriguez said. “If McNeill got Akane’s phone, he certainly took the kid’s.”

“Not her phone,” Kogami said with a smile. “It’s Tigger.”

“McNeill’s man must have hit you in the head really hard,” Rodriguez said. “You’re talking about a character from Winnie the Pooh while we’re chasing down a sociopath.”

“Phoenix has a stuffed Tigger. Her father gave it to her and told her to never lose it. To always keep it close. There must be a tracking device in it. Clever. ETA, Virgil?”

“Ten minutes, Cerberus. Maintain your current course and speed.”

Rodriguez’s phone rang. “Rodriguez here. I’m in the middle of something, so this better be good.” His face went blank and then he exploded. “Patch me through! It’s Royce!” He tapped the screen to activate the speaker. “Man, where the hell are you? Shit’s getting real down here. PAC-Man and Cookie Monster are are doing the job the LAPD should be doing.”

“Have you been smoking again? Shut up, Rodriguez! I’m in a chopper,” the officer’s voice came through a static cloud. “I’m staring through my sniper scope at one Travis McNeill.”

“Can you get a shot?” Rodriguez asked with excitement.

“I wish. Can’t risk it with civilians there.”

“Is Akane there?” Kogami asked.

“Sitting right next to the smug bastard.”

“Do you see Phoenix?”

“Negative. She’s either cowering on the floor in the back seat or he has her in the trunk. Even if I could get a shot, Ko, I couldn’t risk him losing control of the vehicle. He’s hauling ass on the Palisades. One bad move and he flies off a cliff.”

“What’s he driving?”

“A gray Mustang Fastback.”

Kogami grinned with a soft snort.

“That mean something to you?” Rodriguez asked.

“Maybe.”

“Royce, we’re close to them,” Rodriguez said. “Can you see us? How far ahead is he?”

“Not far, don’t worry,” Royce replied. “Ko, you must have made quite an impression with Luda and his people.”

“Here you must gather your soul against all cowardice,” Virgil said through the car speakers. “Dolorous Chasm. You have arrived.”

Tsuki’s Supra slowed to a crawl up the crowded mountain pass. Leaving only a narrow path, a thick throng of cars, trucks, and other vehicles lined the road. The scene was reminiscent of the energetic crowds who gathered on the strip to watch the high-octane activities at Luda’s racing events. As the Supra and Porsche drove passed, the vehicles behind them pulled onto the road to block any access. There would be no pursuit, at least temporarily. To further ensure that there would be no interference, pit crew members worked their way through the makeshift parking lot of vehicles with box cutters in their hands. The audible popping of tires and the subsequent hiss of escaping air under pressure could be heard.

“What are they doing?’ Rodriguez said.

“A road block,” Kogami replied. “Guess they want to make certain the police don’t interfere with their justice. One disabled vehicle is easy to move, but 30?”

“Great. Royce, be advised. The Palisades pass has been blocked.”

“Roger that.”

“Tell the boys to stand down. I’ve got this one.” Unbuckling the harness, Rodriguez turned to Kogami. “I was really hoping to ride shotgun for the next part, but that’s not happening. You might as well let me out here.”

“What are you going to do?” Kogami asked. “Arrest them all?”

“Are kidding me? All that paperwork would be a nightmare! I’ll try to coordinate this mess and keep the peace on both sides of the line.” Rodriguez got out of the Porsche and closed the door. Leaning through the opened window, he said, “You just concentrate on getting Akane and the Iazzetti’s kid away from that bastard. And then, Ko, bring that asshole down. Permanently, if you want a page from my book.” 

Leaving Rodriguez at the base of the mountain road, Kogami drove on to where the rural street was blocked by a large, black tow truck. The name _Lucifer_ was painted in red calligraphic script across the side. On the other side of the truck, McNeill was being dragged from the Mustang by the Patriarchs as the Denizens stood overwatch with pistols and shotguns. 

With the situation under control, Kogami rushed toward the Mustang through the crowd. Tsuki opened the passenger side door and helped Akane out as he arrived. She ran to him, and he embraced her tightly, even lifting her off of her feet. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, but I was sure he killed you,” Akane whispered through tears. She ran her fingers over fresh injuries to his mouth and forehead. Leaving her warm tears on his face, she kissed his brow and clung to him.

“Phoenix?”

“He put her in the trunk because she wouldn’t stop crying.” Akane reached back into the car and snatched the keys from the steering column.

Kogami waited by the trunk and caught the keys as she threw them to him. As the trunk lid went up, he found the frightened little girl curled into a ball in a spacious corner. Phoenix hugged her Tigger closely to her chest. Squinting against the sudden sunlight, he whispered, “Ko, is that really you?” The traumatic child fled into his arms. “I heard your voice, but I thought I was dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming. I’m here. We both are.” Kogami embraced both Akane and Phoenix and held them close as the crowd about them watched on.

Luda snatched the .380 from its holster and pointed the pistol at McNeill’s forehead. “You gonna pay for that shit,” he said, indicating the child. “You can believe that.”

McNeill laughed, despite the fact that a loaded gun was pointed at his skull. “Is this payback for usurping your little AI? Seriously? If it makes you feel any better, the clever cur managed to give me the slip.”

“Oh, you got jokes,” Luda said. He brutally pistol whipped McNeill in the face. “But the joke’s on you. Did you think you could hijack my shit without consequences? Bitch, please.”

“Vain fool and coward!” Virgil thundered. A 30-foot, holographic image of the poet appeared above McNeill. “Fly you now to an empty shroud.”

“Cute,” McNeill whispered, wiping blood from his mouth.

“Virgil’s one prevail primary function is his curiosity. You thought you were the hunter, but the whole time Virgil was piggybacking on your system and quarterbacking for mine.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Your bank accounts? Mine. Your stock holdings? Mine. All being sold off at premium cost as we speak. Can’t wait to break the news about your fall from grace. In a few hours, those stock options be worth the rubber you left back there on the road. Your Cayman Islands account and your Swiss accounts. Mine and mine.” Luda laughed, still brandishing the pistol. “Reese’s daughter ain’t gonna have to work a day in her life, cause now she’s got your life.” Noting the scowl on McNeill’s face, Luda grinned. “Not so funny now, is it?” 

“I’ll rip your heart out, you black—“

“Mind your words,” Luda said, cocking the hammer back. “I’m not the dangerous one here, bitch.” He pointed at Kogami. “He is.”

Kogami swung as hard as he could, aiming the punch for McNeill’s jaw. The blow knocked the man forcefully back against the Mustang and brought him to his knees at the Enforcer’s feet. 

Wincing as the cut in his lip pulled painfully in the corner, McNeill chuckled. “Nothing personal, Ko. Just business.” 

“If it was just business, why not come after me? Why Nysa?”

McNeill raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “ _That_ was personal. I’ve known for a while now that the FBI was trying to move on me. Wasn’t too worried. Kill the bitch on the case and take out her kid. Perfect message against meddling. Had no idea they were all connected until I saw the name—Iazzetti. Dead racer. His daughter. And the grease monkey turned federal agent, who actually built the car.” 

“The federal agent you attempted to murder!” Akane said. She held Phoenix close to her and stroked her hair. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“Call it a flaw in my character. I just don’t know when to stop.” McNeill looked up at Kogami. Leaning against the Mustang for support, he got to his feet. “Biggest surprise was you two. Enforcer Shinya Kogami and his handler Inspector Akane Tsunemori. It’s not often the lion invites the hunter into his den without knowing it.”

“A _real_ lion wouldn’t,” Kogami replied.

“Let’s put that to the test, shall we?” McNeill asked. “Bet’s still on, Ko. Run the Dolorous Chasm with me. All the way. If I lose, I go into custody quietly and confess to everything. When I win, you let me go.”

“Deadman walking,” Luda sneered, raising the gun. “You have the nerve—“

Kogami put his hand up to quiet the Pit Boss. “I accept.”

There was a collective gasp that swept through the crowd of Denizens and race spectators as Kogami answered the challenge and committed himself.

Glaring into McNeill’s grinning face, Luda turned to Kogami. “You already know how this story has to end, Ko. This fool has nothing to lose. You do.” He glanced at Akane, who was rocking Phoenix protectively in her arms. 

“ _Bushido is realized in the presence of death. This means choosing death whenever there is a choice between life and death. There is no other reasoning_.” 

“Is that some samurai bullshit?”

“Yamamoto Tsunetomo.” Kogami laughed malevolently, his eyes steely as he glared at McNeill. “Some very wise samurai bullshit. It’s post time, Lord Patriarch.”

“If it were anybody else—“ Luda shook his head, not finishing his statement. “Clear a path, people. Drivers, on the line.”

Kogami went back to Akane and Phoenix. Sobbing, Phoenix wrapped her arms about his waist. “I w-want you to kick his a-ass, Ko. But I d-don’t want you to d-die.”

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Kogami whispered, smoothing her frayed hair. Braving Akane’s reproving eyes, he sighed and reached out to touch the winter sapphire sparkling at the base of her neck. “I’m going to need this.”

“Kogami, do I even need to say it. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“And when has that ever stopped me?”

“Never, but Kogami—“

He silenced her protest with a kiss. “Of anyone here, any one person in the world, I need you to believe in me.” Kogami bowed his head, resting it against her forehead as he caressed her cheek. “No one else matters. Just you.” 

Phoenix bent her neck backwards at a sharp angle to look up at Akane. “It’s the difficult ones that give you the most in life.”

Smiling down at Phoenix, Akane reached behind her neck and unclasped the necklace. She carefully put it in Kogami’s hand, closed his fingers over it, and put his hand over her heart. “You scare me sometimes, but I’ve never doubted you, Kogami.” She wiped a tear from her frightened face and stepped back into the crowd with Phoenix. “Do what you have to, Enforcer?”

“Is that an order, Inspector?”

“No, but this is.” Akane tilted her head and smiled. “Come back to me.”

“LAPD is arriving on the scene!” Luda declared. “Drivers! Now or never!” He pointed to the Mustang as it rolled onto the line, and then he pointed to Kogami as he brought the Porsche into position on the inside of the road. “Virgil, it’s post time!”

The leviathan-sized holographic image of the poet vanished, only to reappear in a normal size in the middle of the roadway. Dressed in his tunic and toga, the virtual Roman bore a grim expression. “Three...I am the way to the city of Woe. Two...abandon hope all ye who enter here. One...may God have mercy on your souls. _Go_!”

The Mustang roared off the line. McNeill was either not used to the powerful engine or was showing off for effect, but the car fishtailed. Sliding into Kogami’s lane, the Fastback impeded the Porsche’s start and jumped ahead on the narrow two-lane road. Forced to feather the throttle to avoid a collision, Kogami stayed tight on his bumper. 

Considering the circumstances, the 911 lost no ground and effortlessly trailed the muscle car. While the Mustang was a legend for its powerful performance, it was not more powerful than the Porsche 911 nor was it more agile. McNeill’s only hope to win was to maintain the lead.

From the case file, Kogami knew the former owner of the Fastback was fond of the quarter mile and little else, excelling in living life one quarter mile at a time, until McNeil’s greed ended that life. Though surprisingly adept behind the wheel in the straightaway, the tech mogul was far too circumspect in the first turn. The backend of the car was too loose and swung wide through the corner. The lack of precise control would prove much more difficult in a hairpin. 

A devious smile curled in one corner of Kogami’s mouth. In Japan, the name of the game was _tōge,_ a cat and mouse battle. Under normal circumstances, McNeill simply had to outdistance Kogami to win the heat or, by some stroke of fate, hope that Kogami crashed or spun out in order to claim victory. 

Gravity would prove to be a disadvantage. In a downhill race, Kogami had no doubt that the Porsche’s advanced handling and precision tuning would out corner the Mustang and make short work of the potent car and the desperate driver at its wheel. Going uphill brought a new set of conditions to the heat. Driving would require a more defined degree of skill, not just chance or luck, to stay in control. 

To the delight of the spectators, Kogami pressed the Porsche’s nose inches from the inside cliff wall as he drifted through the turn, mocking McNeill’s swift corner. He hung tight to the Mustang’s bumper, even as it accelerated. Though it was a subtle thing to see, McNeill was all over the road, and Kogami took full advantage of his inconsistency. He hoped to intimidate and press him into making a mistake like he had down with the mogul’s mechanic, Julius.

Kogami downshifted and made a move to pass, but McNeill blocked him with the Mustang’s longer, heavier frame. Well into the first hairpin, he was still sitting on McNeill’s bumper. In a desperate attempt to shake him, McNeill risked a drift with the responsive Mustang. He was trying to force Kogami onto a slower, less effective line. Kogami’s response was to drift in tandem, maintaining the same line as the Fastback and increasing his speed. 

The Mustang was receptive to McNeill’s demands, but the increased velocity made him anxious. He was not experienced enough to push the car to its full potential, thus BabyGirl’s recovery out of the turn was faster and more efficient. Had it not been for the Mustang’s longer frame and the narrowness of the pass, the Porsche would have passed on the outside lane. 

The sound of shrieking tires reverberated against the cliff walls and drowned out the roar of the ocean as the cars fought for place. Kogami reveled in the thunder. Above the caustic scent of spent tires, he could smell burning exhaust and noticed the wisps of white smoke coming from the Mustang’s tailpipe. 

With its engine laboring under the stress, the car was burning coolant. Kogami narrowed his eyes and smirked. He had counted on Julius’ meddling to hamper the car, as well as McNeill’s pride to overlook the flaw. Regardless, there was no room to get overconfident. Speed was not the overall factor to winning. It would be the masterful manipulation of race lines and skill that would determine the first half of the race.

As the two cars roared into the next hairpin just before the chasm, Kogami felt the Porsche’s nose dip. There was a decline of elevation, and he realized that the sweeping dog-leg leading and adjoining hairpin into the mouth of the chasm was downhill, all downhill. Downshifting, he prepared for the Porsche’s rear tires to slide as the weight shifted from back to front. 

Kogami drifted early into the turn, maintaining a perpendicular angle to the rear of the Mustang. He then recovered enough to take a position on the opposite side of the road. Before McNeill could counter the maneuver, Kogami straightened the Porsche and was working through the inside line, speeding neck and neck beside the Mustang. 

With such high stakes on the table, McNeill closed on the Porsche in an attempt to hit Kogami and send them into the cliff wall. Gunning the throttle, Kogami downshifted to take advantage of the downhill angle. BabyGirl raced ahead of the aggressive Mustang and took the lead position. Narrowly missing the Porsche’s rear quarter panel, an undeterred McNeill brought the Mustang in line on Kogami’s bumper and tapped the back end of the Porsche.

Braced for the dirty tactic, Kogami felt the Porsche buck, but remained in control. Without needing to downshift, he pressed the accelerator flush to the floor. The Porsche responded with a shriek of its turbos that drowned out the roar of its engine. Tires squealing for traction, BabyGirl hit the uphill slope at 60mph and went airborne. She landed, rear tires first, and raced into the final mile of the chasm.

Heavier than the 911, the Mustang crested the hill, but barely caught any air. McNeill stayed on the bumper of the agile Porsche as they roared toward the old church. He made another attempt to spin the the 911 by again aggressively tapping the bumper. Anticipating the dirty move, Kogami cut the wheel hard to the left and skidded into the opposite lane. The Porsche fishtailed violently, but held the line and narrowly avoided crashing into the chasm wall. 

The ruins of the old church loomed one mile ahead. Kogami committed himself to the line. He would not be deterred. Even if he wanted to pull up, his options were limited. It was the church ahead or being rammed from behind by the Mustang. 

His only advantage was the collapsed entrance to the church ruin was on his side of the road. It was large enough for the Porsche to squeeze through if he drifted into it. The dilapidated, concrete walls cracked but still standing. There was no way to avoid crashing, but he estimated there be just enough room to brake the Porsche and come to a reasonably safe stop. McNeill offered no guarantees as he was intent on spinning the 911 out of control into the wall.

Dropping the Porsche into second, Kogami let off the throttle. When he felt the Porsche’s tires lose traction, he stomped the accelerator and let BabyGirl drift sideways. With a grin on his face, McNeill pointed the Mustang directly at the vulnerable Porsche. He was intent on broadsiding Kogami and driving him into the wall. But to accomplish that, he would have to catch the Porsche, whose speed was increasing, even in the midst of the drift.

Frustrated, McNeill downshifted to bare down on Kogami, but the Mustang’s engine protested loudly. A cloud of white smoke escaped from beneath the hood, effectively blinding McNeill. Snapping the hood locks, the engine hood shuddered violently, and the muscle car’s engine seized. The drivetrain promptly failed, causing a loss of power. Under pressure, a piston rod tore through the Fastback’s hood as the remains of the crankshaft fell out of the car, leaving random splatters of oil and mechanical parts on the road.

Helpless to do anymore than brace himself for the impending impact, Kogami grit his teeth. BabyGirl’s grill clipped the outer edge of the concrete wall at 65mph, but the Porsche remained true to the decided line. The momentum of the powerful drift sent the Porsche sliding laterally through the gap and into the ruins of the old church. The left side of the car smashed into another concrete wall. Though restrained in the five-point harness, Kogami’s head thrown about violently in the aftermath of the crash.

Barely conscious, the Enforcer glared at McNeill and the labored Mustang as the smoking car raced toward him in a direct line. He smiled when the seizing car suddenly veered erratically to the right side of the road and vanished out of sight. Before passing out, Kogami heard the violent impact as the Mustang crashed into the wall at nearly 50mph.

“No day shall erase you from the memory of time. Arise, Cerberus. The victory and all its spoils are yours.”

Kogami woke up to the worried voice of Virgil and a pronounced ringing in his ears. His neck ached from the unusual position of his head, which was cradled on two deflated airbags, one from the door and the other from the ravaged steering column. Imploding immediately on impact, the safety features were designed to prevent traumatic, potentially fatal injuries to the driver’s head, but they were not able to prevent all the damage. 

He slowly sat up and stared at his bloody fingers. Looking into the rearview mirror, he saw the gash about his left eye and blinked as blood dripped into his face from shifting his position. Kogami groaned in pain from new injuries and old ones. Pinched by the tightened five-point restraint harness, the bullet injury throbbed unmercifully. Though the injuries were significant, he would live to recover. So, too, would BabyGirl.

Having taken the obvious brunt of the damage, BabyGirl’s windshield was significantly cracked in five places. A cobweb of fissures spread across the glass and limited any forward vision. The hood was crumpled in from the initial contact with the wall, and the driver’s side, including the door, was smashed in and pinned against the interior chapel wall. Suggesting much more than cosmetic damage, a light veil of smoke blew into the cabin. 

Desperately trying to regain his bearings, Kogami scanned the car for the source of the smoke. He realized with relief that it was not the Porsche, but an external source on the other side of the wall.

Unstrapping himself from the harness, Kogami gasped as it released. Blood seeped through the Henley shirt that Luda had given him. Head bowed, he hunched over, compacting his long, muscular frame and crawled across the center console into the passenger seat. Throwing open the door, he fell out of the car.

Kogami tried to stand. Unsteadily, his legs fought to find purchase on the loose soil. Too disoriented from the crash, he slipped in the gravel and landed on his chest. Breathlessly, he called, “Virgil?”

“Be still, Cerberus,” the AI said through the car’s speakers. “I have no hands to help, but my voice has been heard.”

Kogami rolled to his side. Using the passenger door for support, he pulled himself up to his feet and remained there until he could stand on his own. “McNeill?”

“The foe, though vanquished, is not punished enough, Cerberus. But the gates of hell are open night and day. See there how the flames rise for one who belongs among the damned.”

As the ringing in his ears faded, Kogami forced himself to move back toward the road and the ominous crackling of fire. He wavered unsteadily and was forced to travel along the interior wall of the dilapidated chapel. Startled by the intensity of the heat, he yanked his hand away from the last section of concrete. A fine film of smoke rose from the stone surface from the build-up of heat coming from the opposite side.

The Mustang had crashed head-on into the wall and was engulfed in fire. Ten-foot flames licked up the wall and scorched the cracked surface. Black smoke billowed from the ruined hood of the muscle car and from the driving compartment. Shielding himself with his arms, Kogami tried to open the driver’s side door, but burned his fingers on the handle. 

With no regard for himself, Kogami reached into the open window and grabbed McNeill’s unconscious form. Growling with the effort, he dragged him through the window to the ground. Still smoking from the intense fire, McNeill’s face, head and hands all showed severe burns and other injuries from the crash.

Struggled with the dead weight Kogami dragged him back inside the roofless chapel behind the wall with urgency. Seconds later, the Mustang exploded violently. The detonation of the gas tank shook the ground with the potency of a natural earthquake. Hidden behind the wall, Kogami shielded McNeill from the blast and detritus caused to the ruined walls as a result. Relying on the old wall to absorb the majority of the blast, he leaned over the unconscious man and waited out the secondary explosions. As burning debris fell from the sky, raining ash and charred car parts over them, Kogami leaned back against BabyGirl and panted as shock set in. “Virgil?”

“Do not yield to misfortunes, but advance more boldly to meet them, Cerberus,” the poet said gravely. “You are a better man than any I know. Rest easy now, the cavalry is here.”


	12. Chapter 12

Kogami took a deep breath. He was relieved to be wearing the familiar black suit that was his standard fare for work at the MWPSB. With his left arm confined to a sling, he struggled to properly knot his tie, so he left it loose and hanging in the collar of his shirt. 

It was early evening as he made his way from the locker room and across the LAPD’s CID floor. Without fail, the Los Angeles night life emerged in force. The desks were filling up with the usual cast of characters from the city’s streets, and the LAPD officers were there to receive them.

“Nice work, Ko!” Sgt. Cunningham winked at him from her processing station near the fingerprinting machine.

Barbosa, a detective from homicide, nodded as he passed Kogami. “Way to bring down that bastard.”

A rookie looked up from her terminal as Kogami walked by her. The nameplate on her desk read: Brink. “Great job, Enforcer Kogami!”

The praises kept coming from all across the large room. Emerging from the break room and various departmental offices, police officers stopped what they were doing to acknowledge him and the end of a very difficult case. Kogami sensed a raw camaraderie from the officers that he had come to envy and, regretfully, would miss when he returned to Japan. 

There were 15 cops in the room, hunting dogs every one, without a single, so-called Inspector in sight. Some of them came from other careers, the military, familiar obligation, but for all of them, law enforcement had been their choice of career. Human made choices, not the neutral decision of a machine, and no apocalypse as consequence. 

_Not much to be said for the Sibyl System_ , he thought. 

“How’s it feel to be loved for what you do and not kept on a leash?” Rodriguez asked. Coming up behind Kogami, he slapped the Enforcer hard on the left side of his back.

Kogami winced and held his breath until the pain subsided. “You looking to go another round, Rodriguez?”

“Not certain you’re up to it, old boy, not with that sling around your neck.”

“The sling can come off.”

“But it won’t have to,” Akane said, getting between them, “because Kogami has me to back him up. That was a cheap shot, Rodriguez. Even for you.” She punched him in the arm, but it was hardly a proper blow.

Rodriguez feigned fear and flinched away from her. “My neck still hurts from that little tussle on the beach, Inspector Tsunemori. I give. You win.” 

“That’s right. Recognize your betters.” Akane walked between them, taking the arm of each man, and let them escort her down the corridor to the conference room for their debriefing.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rodriguez said. He opened the door, and both Kogami and he waited respectfully for Akane to go in first.

“Ah,” Chief Tomb cried with delight, “my undercover consultants from Japan have arrived.” She set down a bundle of files and a tablet in front of her on the table and sat down. “Where’s Officer Royce?”

“Thought he’d be here by now,” Rodriguez replied.

“And I thought he was with you,” Tomb said.

“Apologies for my tardiness, Chief,” Royce said, sticking his head into the room. “If Officer Rodriguez would do his job properly, people would not be parking illegally in the handicap area in front of the station.”

“Except for that big mouth of yours, why on Earth would you need a handicap spot? Kogami’s the one who got shot. You didn’t even so much as break a nail.”

“What about me?” Nysa asked. Dressed in a gray business suit, she sat in a wheelchair as Royce pushed her into the room. “How’s it going boys and girl!” She winked at Akane. “Did you miss me?”

“They let you out of the hospital already?” Akane asked.

“I threatened to sign myself out against medical orders.” Nysa returned the MWPSB Inspector’s warm embrace. “Did you think I was going to let you guys close this case without me? I have like an hour before the feds send out their tactical boys to bring me back and arrest anyone who kept me passed my release time.”

“Alright, gang’s all here,” Tomb said. “No sense wasting the time. I have a press conference in 20 minutes. Debrief me, people.” 

“Of the four missing cars in this case, two of them were found on McNeill’s estate. Both of them, and what’s left of that Mustang Fastback, match the missing cars, right down to the last digit of the serial numbers,” Royce began.

“I thought he scrubbed the vins,” Tomb said.

“Scrubbed the vin numbers,” Kogami interjected, “but not the serial numbers on the aftermarket parts. Those unique identification tags traced back to the original owners, who either built the parts or installed them.”

“So, you’re telling me I can tie the missing cars directly to McNeill?”

“All four of them.”

“What about the murders of the drivers?”

“Once his minions discovered that McNeill’s empire had fallen, they started rolling over on each other and him like bowling pins,” Nysa said. “He’s going down for a host of local and federal charges, among them grand theft auto and murder one.”

“He’s looking at a life sentence. If he survives his injuries.” Adjusting the glasses on her nose, Chief Tomb sat back in her chair and scrolled through the hospital report.

“He’ll survive,” Akane said. “The burns cover 25% of his body, but the prognosis is good. He’ll live to stand trial and do his time in prison.”

“Though he won’t be nearly as pretty to look at,” Royce said.

Rodriguez snorted and shrugged his shoulders. “His fellow inmates won’t be looking at his face.” 

Tomb smiled wryly at Nysa and tapped her fingers against the table surface. “I imagine this will make a tidy little RICO case for the FBI once you dig a bit deeper into McNeill’s finances.”

“All thanks to the efforts of the LAPD and the MWPSB,” Nysa said. “That’s what I call joint agency cooperation.” She winked at Kogami. “Kudos all around! FBI Director Bennett will be sending personal commendations for both Inspector Tsunemori and Enforcer Kogami to Chief Kasei, the Head of the Ministry of Welfare’s Public Safety Bureau in Japan.”

“You’ll also be getting commendations from the Los Angeles Police Department,” Tomb said, “and the Mayor of Los Angeles. We owe you our thanks.” Removing her glasses, she swung them absently between her fingers and gave Royce and Rodriguez an affectionate nod. “As for the two of you, I see a promotion in your futures. Good work, officers.” 

“Chief Tomb,” a secretary called from her office. “Mayor Higgins is here to discuss the press conference.”

“Duty calls. This is where I earn my paycheck.” Tomb packed her tablet and stood up. “Nysa, I wish you a speedy recovery. If the FBI needs anything in my backyard, they shall have my full cooperation. As long as they send you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Inspector Tsunemori, it has been an honor and a privilege.”

Akane stood up and bowed deeply. “The honor was mine, Chief Tomb. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“You’re welcomed back any time, Akane. It’s nice to know Japan has this level of quality working to keep the public safe. Well,” she said, looking down at Kogami, “mostly safe.” 

There was muffled laughter from the other side of the table as she extended her hand to Kogami. “If the Sibyl System ever retires you, I always have room under my roof for a good hunting dog, Mr. Kogami, even if beneath all that hair lies a wolf.”

Kogami could not contain his smile. Taking her hand, he relied, “Might take you up on that one day. Might mean risking your pension though.”

“You let me worry about that,” Tomb replied. “Good luck to you. To you both.” Chief Tomb smiled and left the room.

“Can you smell it! Promotion!” Royce shouted, barely containing his excitement. “Detective, here I come!” He glanced at Rodriguez, who clearly did not share his enthusiasm. “What’s with you? Didn’t you hear the lady?”

“Yeah, detective. There are no detectives on SWAT, Royce.”

“Rodriguez, man, grow up.”

“If growing up means no SWAT, I’m never growing up. I’m happy on SWAT, aren’t you? I’m not cut out to be a gumshoe.”

“Would you two stop it!” Nysa said, “You sound like a married couple going through a midlife crisis.” This brought a round of laughter from the group.

“Speaking of midlife crisis,” Kogami said. “How’s BabyGirl?”

“I won’t lie, Ko. She took a bad hit, clipping that wall, but you couldn’t have planned that little maneuver any better than you did,” Nysa said. “She’ll be off the street for a few months, but so will I.” She smiled at him and leaned forward in her chair. “So it will give Phoenix and me something to work on together. After that, I think I’ll retire her. Babygirl deserves that. Besides, when you leave, who’s going to drive her?”

“Where is Phoenix?” Kogami asked.

Nysa’s face darkened, and she frowned. “Outside in the corridor. She wouldn’t come in if it meant she had to say good bye.” She smiled sadly. “Phoenix really took a shine to you, Ko. It’s like her dad leaving, you know, leaving her all over again.” 

“Kogami?” Akane whispered.

Kogami set his jaw. Reality was not always kind. He knew that for a fact and had experienced the truth of it more often than he wanted to admit, but that same reality was cruel for children. He felt Akane’s hand on his shoulder. 

“I’ll talk to her.”

Outside in the hallway, leaning into the glass wall of a nearby office, Phoenix sat with her knees folded up to her chin. She was wearing her backpack full of stuffed animals with Tigger riding shotgun from the top. 

“Hey,” Kogami said. 

“Hey,” came her muffled reply. 

“I have to go home some time, you know?”

“Why can’t this be your home now?”

“Because I’m a Japanese Wolfhound, and I have hunting to do back home, so that other little girls don’t lose their daddies.”

Phoenix turned to him, tears spilling from her eyes. She understood the importance of his job and how paramount an intervention, no matter how brief, could be to someone in need as she had been. “Promise me. You won’t ever forget me!”

Kogami stooped down to her eye level. “How could I ever forget you? It’s not often you encounter a genuine American Cotton Finger in the wild.”

Mindful of his sling, she jumped off the bench and wrapped her arms about his neck. Laying her head against his chest, she whispered, “I wish you could be my daddy now.”

Kogami pulled back and looked her in the face. “You have a daddy, Phoenix, and he loves you. He’ll always be watching over you. And so will I.” He called up a data file on his wristcom. “Got your phone?”

Phoenix handed it to him, and Kogami held the screen over the wristcom until he heard the affirmative alert. “If you’re ever in trouble, or you’re just lonely, call me.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “First number is me. That second one is Akane. If you can’t reach either of us, and it’s an emergency, that man at that third number can find us. His name’s Ginoza. If he’s grumpy or mean, just ignore him. We all do.”

“Kogami,” Akane growled. Holding the large pink panda in her arms, she looked ridiculous as she attempted to scold him. “Inspector Ginoza is a very nice man, Phoenix. He just likes to follow the rules.”

Phoenix looked up innocently at Akane, and then turning to Kogami, she said, “He’s an asshole, isn’t he.”

“Phoenix Kaylynn Iazzetti!” Nysa said sternly. “That’s a dollar for the swear jar.”

“No,” Phoenix said in her defense. “Daddy used to say that only assholes followed the rules. If you really wanted to learn something, you had to step outside of your comfort zone. And that might mean bending the rules or maybe breaking them.”

Kogami laughed and embraced her. “Guess it all depends on your perspective.” He pinched her nose and tugged. “Watch your mouth.”

“Phoenix, I was wondering if you could do me a favor,” Akane said. She held out the pink panda to the 10-years old. “I’m not sure I can get this guy through customs, and the PSB definitely won’t purchase another plane seat. Might be better if he stayed here with you.”

Phoenix’s eyes lit up. “Really?” She took the panda, which was bigger than she was and wrapped her arms around it. “I’ll take good care of him, Akane, I promise! Pinky promise.” She held her pinky out to seal the pact.”

Rodriguez glanced at a phone alert and smiled mischievously at Royce. “MWPSB, your ride’s here.”

“I thought you guys were taking us to the airport?” Akane said.

“We are,” Royce chuckled. “Just not as planned.”

“Not as planned?” Watching from beneath a tousled forelock of black hair, Kogami stared down at Phoenix. “You have any idea what he’s talking about?”

Hugging the panda against her chest, she smiled. “I was sworn to secrecy.” Phoenix handed the stuffed toy to Rodriguez and took Kogami’s hand. She ran, leading him at a fast walk to the elevators. On the first floor at the front doors of the precinct building, Kogami made her wait at the entrance until Royce pushed Nysa outside with Rodriguez.

“Sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on?” Kogami asked. “I’ll give you my last two dollars for the swear jar.”

“You’ll see.”

Closed to normal traffic and cordoned off by police vehicles and construction barriers, the street outside was empty of vehicles. “What’s the occasion?” Akane asked. “Extra security to make sure Kogami and Rodriguez don’t break anything before we went back to Japan?”

“Akane, I thought we were good,” Rodriguez whined. “My heart—”

Screeching tires and revving engines abruptly reverberated in the air and between the close confines of the buildings as five cars came sliding into view from around the corner. The vehicles did not slow down or veer off as they raced toward the front of the precinct headquarters. 

Two police officers promptly moved a street barrier before they arrived and let them speed through before returning the barrier to its place. A black Nissan 350Z led a pack of high performance vehicles, all of which Kogami recognized: a lavender Supra, a blue Skyline, a black RX-7, and Luda’s yellow Corvette C5. In full force, the Patriarchs had arrived on the scene in classic style.

“What’s this?” Kogami was confused when Rocio got out of the flashy Corvette with a welcoming smile and kissed his cheek.

“Goodbye, and not good bye,” Rocio replied. She walked over to Akane and kissed her cheek. “More like see you soon.”

Smiling mischievously, Tsuki, Brian, and Sung got out of their vehicles. Arms crossed over her chest, Tsuki announced, “We’re the send off party.”

“And there can’t be a proper send off without a race,” Luda said, getting out of the 350Z. “Virgil, are you there?”

“I am here, Lord Patriarch. How may I serve?” A hologram of the poet coalesced beside the pit boss and bowed to each of them. 

“The name of the game is Around the World, Virgil. Five crossings within a designated course. The final destination will be the Los Angeles Airport.”

The hologram tilted its head with a cunning grin. “Calculating.”

Kogami gasped and stepped back as if struck in the chest. “Are you serious?” He glanced at Rodriguez and Royce. “This is sanctioned?”

“Fully sanctioned,” Royce said. “Approved by the Chief and the Mayor, herself.”

Hands in his pocket, the Enforcer was speechless. Beside him, Akane took his arm and grinned up at him. The Enforcer shook his head and took a deep breath to restore his composure. “Alright,” he said, “what’s the entry fee?”

“The fee?” Luda asked. “The only fee that matters to a Patriarch, man. Love and friendship and family. If you got those three things, you can always afford the fee.” He put his hand out and the other Patriarchs joined him in a circle. They looked back at Kogami. Smiling, he extended his hand with theirs and joined them.

“Love conquers all,” Virgil said. 

“That’s right, Virgil, and love spans all distances. You’re a Patriarch and always will be, brother.” He shook hands with the Enforcer, leaving a key fob hanging from Kogami’s fingers.

Kogami stared at the key and then at Luda. “The 350Z?”

“BabyGirl took a hurting in that chasm run. She’ll be laid up a while. Thought you might need something comparable.”

“Whose car is this?” Kogami asked.

“Mine, if you must know,” Nysa replied. “Her name is Sera.”

“Virgil, it’s post time,” Luda announced. “Start the roll call.”

“Around the World Goodbye Tour,” the AI said. “One minute until post time! Online: Luda—Lord Patriarch. Online: Tsuki—Patriarch Beatrice. Online: Brian—Patriarch Wraith. Online: Sung—Patriarch Charon. Online: Error detected.”

“State the nature of the error.”

“Online: Kogami—Patriarch Seraphim. Initiate deletion?”

“Make an addition, Virgil,” Luda said. “Overwrite the code.” 

“Overwrite parameter accepted. Online: Kogami—Patriarch Cerberus.”

“Sera? As in Seraphim?” Kogami asked, turning to Nysa. “You were a Patriarch?”

“I was the third Patriarch,” she replied, “until I did the unthinkable and went legit. Do us a solid, Ko? Make sure Sera gets to the airport in one piece. And don’t embarrass us. This car never lost a heat!”

“I’ll certainly do my best.”

“I know you will. We’ll meet you guys at the airport.” Holding Phoenix’s hand, she was lifted into a nearby police van as Royce and Rodriguez supervised the transport.

Kogami felt his cheeks flush from the attention. It was rare that an Enforcer was ever shown this kind of admiration and respect, but he was far from home and far from the system that had relegated him to the status of subhuman. He removed the sling, tossed it in the back of the car, and sat down inside the 350Z. Like BabyGirl, the high-performance car was a marvel and left him wondering what was beneath the hood.

Akane settled into the passenger seat beside him and strapped into the five-point restraint harness. Sitting back in the chair she took a deep breath and sighed with a gratified smile on her face. The Patriarch cars began to take off in 10-second intervals to circle the block and await the appearance of the first crossing.

“What?” Kogami asked, feeling her eyes on him.

“Overwhelmed?”

“A bit.” He glanced over at her. “Were you in on this?”

“I’m just as surprised as you, but aren’t you forgetting something, Kogami?” Akane grinned at him and undid the clasp of her necklace. Putting the winter sapphire over the rearview mirror, she leaned across the console. “Good luck.”

“With you here, I’ve got all the luck I need.” He kissed her lovingly on the lips.

“Hurried by fate and borne upon a furious wind go the fearless, those Patriarchs!” said Virgil over the car speakers. “Stand by, Cerberus. The Around the World Goodbye Tour starts in five, four, three, two...one!”

**Author's Note:**

> A very special thank you to the following people:
> 
> Ariana T. for her writing challenges and patient editing skills. I could not accomplish any of this without you.
> 
> Silvana I. and Kayla C. for content review and encouraging my crazy ideas and then driving me toward them with love and laughter.
> 
> Kaylynn K. for masterfully keeping my inner eight old on the task. I would have aborted this work if not for you. The inner eight year old adores you!
> 
> Cleverwolfpoetry, whom I cannot thank enough for all the advice on translation and variations in Japanese.
> 
> For all the lovely words of encouragement in kudos or messages from readers, who made me smile and kept me at the keyboard.


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